


Bits of Heaven

by WrathoftheStag (Mwuahna)



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: 39-year-old Bitty, 44-year-old Jack, Bakery AU, Bob lives with Jack, Childless by choice, F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Happy Ending, Jack figuring things out, M/M, Slow-ish burn, Unbeta'd, aging parents, alicia is gone, background Nursey/Dex, cancer mention, coach is also gone, fathers and sons, finding happiness, mentions of past infidelity, older zimbits au, older!zimbits, past Jack/Camilla, teenaged frogs, widower bob zimmermann
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-14
Updated: 2019-06-11
Packaged: 2020-03-05 10:12:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 22,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18826573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mwuahna/pseuds/WrathoftheStag
Summary: At age 44, NHL legend, Jack Zimmermann, knows three things for sure: retirement is boring, love is probably not in the cards for him, and his aging father makes a pretty good roommate.  When the bakery "Bits of Heaven" opens up down the street, Jack finds that a happily ever after is possible—even late in the game.





	1. Same Thing Every Day

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RabbitRunnah](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RabbitRunnah/gifts).



> For RabbitRunnah who gave me this Older!Zimbits prompt: _Recently retired Jack, bored, sees a Help Wanted sign in the bakery he's been stopping at every morning..._. 
> 
> This was meant to be a cute, quick little one-shot but it's grown into something more. I hope you like it.

The tea kettle sang loudly on the stove and roused Jack from the blank daydream he was currently having. He snapped out of it completely and turned off the oven. He mindlessly poured the boiling water into two mugs and plunked a tea bag into each one. The smell of earl grey tea wafted toward his nose.

Jack scratched at his beard as the water became a rich, dark brown and after a few minutes, he added a splash of cream and teaspoon of sugar into one of the mugs.

“Here you go, papa,” Jack said as he placed the tea with cream and sugar in front of Bob who sat in the living room.

“Thanks, son,” Bob said and gingerly took a sip.

It had been two years since Alicia passed away. Cancer was a terrible thing that didn’t care how loved someone was; it took without pity and remorse. It made sense for Jack to have his 77-year-old father, come and live with him in Providence. Jack had been divorced from Camilla for five years now, and his place was way too big for one person. After Jack retired four years ago, at the respectable age of 40, his home felt even bigger somehow. With Alicia gone, it was just the Zimmermann men, together, making their way each day.

“How’s the knee doing today? I can tell it’s going to be a damp one, today,” Bob said taking an Oreo cookie from a small plate on the coffee table and glancing at the window. The grey skies swirled and danced outside.

“It’s fine. Not too bad,” Jack said as he gently patted his knee. 

Part of the reason for Jack’s retirement was the state of his knee. Had one bad hit not made him land just so, Jack might have played another season or two. And while MCL tears are usually not that big of a deal, Jack had the very rare case of a 3 MCL tear which required surgery. While he could still play, his recovery was longer than most. He figured his body had had enough. It was at that time that Alicia had been diagnosed, and so with three Stanley Cup rings under his belt, the Providence Falconers retired his jersey, and Jack said goodbye to the NHL. He hung up his skates and dedicated his time to his parents.

“So what are you doing today?” Jack asked.

“Same thing I do every day. Try to take over the world,” Bob said with a small wink.

Alicia’s passing had been difficult for everyone, but he knew that no one was even close to feeling the tremendous loss Bob felt. They had been together for fifty years; she was his confidant, best friend, his _everything_ and Jack could see how lost his father still felt. It broke Jack’s heart.

“There’s a Blue Jays game about to start,” Jack said as he scrolled through the TV menu.

“Great, let’s watch,” Bob said and settled in deeper into his armchair.

Jack smiled softly at his father who took another cookie.

**+++**

The thing about dating was that… it wasn’t as easy as Jack thought it would be. He hadn’t dated since he and Camilla divorced (she had remarried right away and now had a three-year-old boy) and it wasn’t for lack of trying. Marty, Thirdy—even Tater—had tried fixing him up with someone on numerous occasions. The thing was if it didn’t work out, and it usually didn’t, it then left Jack in the awkward position of seeing these people at his teammates’ family events. So he stopped being fixed up with friends of friends, and turned to online dating instead, upon Bob’s insistence. 

“Jack, we can’t both be single and miserable,” Bob said kindly. “You need to get out there. You’re still young, Jack. No need having two senior citizens in the house.”

“Senior citizen, really, papa?” Jack said with a small grin.

Bob eyed Jack’s cardigan up and down, over his glasses, and returned to his book without another word.

So Jack set up a Tinder account, and hell, a Grindr one, too, only to be immediately intimidated.

Jack still looked good for his age. He worked out four times a week and made Bob come along with him at least twice a week, but the amount of skin some of the men on Grindr showed made him question his body.

“Brah! Guys half your age wish they looked as good as you do,” Shitty had said over the phone.

Jack poked at his tummy and sighed. “I don’t have six-pack abs anymore.”

“True, but now you can enjoy a six-pack and some cake with your old man and not have a heart attack over it. Plus, you still have that ass that won’t quit.”

Lardo shouted from the background, “Tell him he has nice eyes, too!”

“And Lards says you have an awesome set of peepers, too.”

Jack grinned. “Thanks, man.”

“Hey, what are truthful friends for?” Shitty had said.

Jack logged off Tinder and Grindr for a bit and concentrated on more pressing things as he glanced at his father filling out a _New York Times_ crossword puzzle.

“What’s the capital of Belarus?”

“Minsk,” Jack replied.

“Right, got it,” Bob said as he eagerly pushed up his glasses and scribbled in the answer.

Jack smiled.

 

One evening, Jack was going out for an early evening walk (he missed running, but oh well) when he noticed that a new shop was finally opening in the empty storefront on Wickenden Street. It wasn't opened yet, but he could see someone inside unpacking and cleaning. He stood, transfixed, gripping his cup of coffee as he watched a man inside alone, working. 

Even though he’d stood across the street from the shop, Jack could tell the man was singing. He looked happy. The man’s blond cowlick danced along with him as he moved across the shop, turning and jumping. The man, who seemed to be a few years younger than Jack, paused to wipe his forehead with a dishwashing-gloved hand, and Jack was charmed. 

How wonderful to be so happy and living in the moment, loving what you are doing. Jack realized he had a smile on his face and then embarrassment quickly took over as he caught himself spying on this perfect stranger.

He cleared his throat and continued his walk, making a mental note of the shop’s signage. It was a bakery; _Bits of Heaven_ the sign read. Jack made his way home quietly, with a little pep in his step, as he thought of the blond stranger.

**+++**

“Papa, you got invited to Pens Fan Fest again this year,” Jack said as he shuffled through yesterday’s mail at the breakfast table.

He held up the letter with the familiar yellow and black emblem.

“You’d think they’d get the hint,” Bob said nonchalantly. “I don’t want to go and be part of their damn dog and pony show.”

“That’s not what they want,” Jack said as Bob rolled his eyes.

“No one wants to see an ancient hockey player. I’m just a novelty act—I still have all my teeth,” Bob said dryly.

“Your fans want to see you,” Jack huffed. “They still love you, you know. They want to see you out and about.”

“All my fans are probably dead.”

“Papa,” Jack frowned.

Bob waved him off and tucked into his omelet.

“Speaking of being out and about. Have you thought about getting a job yet?” Bob asked as he pointed his fork at Jack.

“What, am I freeloading or something?”

“You’re probably worth more than me now,” Bob chuckled. “No, I just think you should get out and do something. You were on the _You Can Play_ board for such a short amount of time, I'd thought you would have been more interested and stayed on longer.”

“It was okay…”

“But?”

“But nothing.”

“You need to be out doing _something_ , Jack. You have a history degree for crying out loud.”

“I know,” Jack said and held his hands up in surrender. “Look, when I find the perfect job, I promise I’ll give it a go, okay?”

 

A few weeks passed, and Jack kept his eye on Bits of Heaven. Every evening during his walk, he'd stroll by to watch the shop's progress. One night, the blond man stood outside the shop’s front door holding a shiny silver tray.

“Sample? I promise you, it's a bit of heaven,” he said.

“Oh,” Jack said awkwardly as he took a small plastic dish. “You've opened?”

“Next week! I'm just out here meeting the neighbors, saying hi.”

Jack nodded and stuffed the tiny chunk of pie into his mouth.

“It's delicious,” he mumbled through the crumbs as the man laughed. 

“Good to hear! Well, please be sure to stop by next week for our official grand opening.”

Jack grinned, but he could feel it looking more like a grimace than anything else. He nodded and quickly walked away.

He made it back home just as Bob was pulling some steaks out of the oven. 

“Did you see that the bakery on Wickenden is finally opening?” Jack asked.

“Ooo, I can’t wait to try it. It looks like pie is their specialty.”

“I just tried some. The owner—or at least I think it was the owner—was outside giving samples. I had the apple pie.”

“Was it good?” Bob asked excitedly.

Jack flashed his father a thumbs up. 

“Hot diggety dog! Can’t wait.”

“It’ll just be nice to have another coffee option in the neighborhood,” Jack said as he remembered the blond man’s smile.

**+++**

Jack waited until almost closing time before he descended onto Bits of Heaven. He wanted to avoid the crowds—not so much because of his anxiety but because he didn’t want to deal with anyone recognizing him. An occasional person here or there was fine, but a giant group would have a domino effect, and he didn’t want to deal with a mob that evening.

He walked through the door, and a little bell chimed. There were a few people at tables digging into their pie, and some kids were chatting. Apparently, they worked there as they wore Bits of Heaven t-shirts.

“Hey, you came back!” the blond man said as he emerged from behind the counter. He wiped his hands on his apron and smiled at Jack. “I just put out one final batch of chocolate chip cookies, fresh from the oven. Would you like one?”

“Oh, sure. Thanks. Can I also get a small black coffee?”

“You got it, mister.”

“Jack,” he supplied as he handed over a ten dollar bill.

The man smiled. “One black coffee and a chocolate chip cookie coming right up for Mister Jack.”

Jack felt his cheek burn as he stood off to the side and waited for his order.

“I’m Eric, by the way,” he said as he handed Jack his coffee.

“Welcome to the neighborhood,” Jack said.

“Thanks, I--”

“Eric, can we punch out now? That last table cleared out.”

Jack turned to look at the three teenagers wearing Bits of Heaven t-shirts. 

“Okay, Rudy Rudester… do you want to not interrupt next time?”

The redhead looked even redder as he blushed. “Sorry.”

“Dex, you can punch out since you got here early. Chowder and Nursey, you've got 15 more minutes.”

“Okay, boss!” the one with the braces replied and quickly got back to work.

“Sorry about that. They're not supposed to work this late, but agreed to help out for our grand opening week.”

“To be that young and full of energy, huh?” Jack smiled. 

“Yeah, but now I need to find someone that full of energy to help me close and sweep up,” Eric said with a sigh. “Look at me, laying my troubles on you. Go and enjoy your cookie and thanks again for coming.”

Jack took a seat in the large armchair by the corner and noticed there was a small Help Wanted sign taped to the window.

He watched the three kids chirp each other, sword fight with broom handles, and smiled at their zeal.

“Boys! Can you please?” Eric chastised kindly.

“Night, Eric,” Dex called out. He then waved at the other two boys (one gave him an extra bright smile) and left.

The last few customers trickled out, and Jack looked at the time. The shop was officially closed. He took his dish and mug to the counter and Eric slammed his register drawer shut.

“How’d it go?” Jack asked.

“Pretty good, if I do say so myself.” He looked at Jack’s dishes. “Oh, you didn't have to bring them up. You could have just left them on the table. Thank you!”

“Thanks for letting me stay till the last minute.”

“Nonsense. I just hope you’ll be back.”

Jack stood there and rubbed the back of his neck. “So, uh, what are the hours?”

“Well, our official hours will be Tuesday through Sunday, 7:00 a.m. to 6:00 p.m.—but I stayed open later for the grand opening. Here, let me get you a punch card.”

Jack looked at the card pressed into his hand and cleared his throat. “No, I meant what are the hours—you know, for closing up.”

He pointed at the sign in the window.

“Oh! I see… I’m not sure it’d be your kind of thing?” Eric replied looking taken by surprise.

“Oh?” 

“It’s to help wash dishes, sweep, clean up and stuff. I figured some other high schooler might be interested, not you.”

Jack smiled. “And why not me?” 

Eric laughed. “Well, because I can’t imagine a retired NHL legend would be interested in sweepin’ up my shop.”

Jack felt a little crestfallen, realizing Eric knew who he was.

“Don’t worry—never mind, it’s not a big deal," Jack quickly added.

"I mean, if you’re interested, then who am I to stand in the way?” Eric said with kindness and a quick wink.

"Okay. Right on," Jack replied with a smile.

Jack then realized he felt something he hadn’t felt in a long time… giddiness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A Bits of Heaven t-shirt? Don't mind if I do...  
> 


	2. Heavenly Associate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack begins working at Bits of Heaven and forms an easy friendship with Eric.

“So… you’re a janitor?” Bob chirped.

“I’m a ‘Heavenly Associate,’” Jack replied, trying to maintain a straight face, even with the silly title. “That’s what we’re all called there. Eric insists on everyone having the same title.”

“You’re sweeping and mopping?”

Jack nodded. “And washing dishes… and soon, I’ll probably be ringing people up.”

Bob smirked. “Well, that’s one way of using your degree.”

Jack flung a throw pillow at his father and smiled.

“I start on Tuesday, and if you want me to bring home end-of-day leftovers, you better shape up, papa.”

“Son, I’m glad you put yourself out there but are you sure that’s what you want to do? You were making $10 million a year, at one point…”

“Never knew you were a snob, papa,” Jack began as Bob shook his head. “I mean, that’s the point, isn’t it? We have all this money, and for what? Now I can just take it easy and do something fun. Something easy with people I actually like.”

Bob studied Jack for a moment; then his eyes grew wide. 

“Oh. Oh, I see. I get it.”

“Get what?” Jack asked, bewildered.

“No, nothing,” Bob said with a smirk. “Go ahead… have fun at the bakery, you Heavenly Associate, you.”

Bob continued reading the latest Magnus Chase book and made a _shoo’ing_ motion with his hand toward Jack.

 

Jack arrived ten minutes before his shift as Eric was chatting with a grandma at one of the tables near the window.

“It tastes just like my pineapple upside down cake. Well done, Eric.”

“Well, it is my MooMaw's recipe so…,” he said to her with a wink.

Jack smiled as he walked to the backroom, and Eric gave him a quick wave, motioning to go on to the back room. 

“Oh god… it is you,” Dex said as he froze in place. “I thought Eric was joking. There's no way _The_ Jack Zimmermann would want to work here.”

“Chill, Dex!” Nursey called out as he rolled his eyes. “We don't know his life. Maybe he's getting in touch with the common folk, trying to find meaning in this meaningless void we call existence.” Nursey pointed at Dex as he looked over at Jack. “You’ll have to excuse, Poindexter here. He’s socially ill-equipped.”

They both then stared at Jack, waiting for an answer. 

“This seemed fun?” he finally said. 

“Wow. Okay,” Dex said softly.

Nursey studied him for a beat and said, “Right. Existential crisis. Got it.”

Dex pulled Jack by the arm. “Okay, Eric wanted me to show you how the dishwasher works. We have ten minutes before I punch out, so let’s do this.”

“Okay,” Jack said as the tall, gangly boy led him there.

“So the dirty dishes come in, they go in the prep area, where you rinse and wipe with a soapy sponge. You gotta do this before putting them in the rack. See?”

Dex quickly ran some plates through.

“They get sprayed and then loaded in the dishwasher. Just push the rack over, but you have to wait for the temp to reach this red line, see? When the cycle is done, the rack is slid over here so they can cool and be put away.”

“What happens if the dishwasher breaks down?” Jack asked.

“If I can’t fix it, then we call service, and in the meantime, it’s handwashing city for you, my friend. It’ll suck to be you.”

Jack noticed the tinge of glee in Dex’s face when he said it.

“So, you’re a total charmer, eh?”

Nursey snorted in the background. “Dude! You’re my hero,” he yelled out to Jack, who laughed.

By the time Dex and Nursey left, the crowd was thinning out. Jack bussed some tables, got a few double-takes from some customers (most people just assumed he only looked like ex-Providence Captain Jack Zimmermann and wasn’t actually Jack Zimmermann) and sampled a chocolate madeleine Eric had put out for him on a small plate in the kitchen.

When Eric flipped the bakery sign over to CLOSED, he turned to look at Jack, who was already busy sweeping.

“Lord, I feel like I didn’t have a single minute to talk to you tonight.”

Jack smiled. “Busy day means a good day, right?”

“Whew! Then, this was a _very_ good day.” He motioned toward Jack. “Come, have a seat. Let’s have a quick cup of coffee before we finish closing up.”

Eric went behind the counter, poured two cups of coffee, and handed one to Jack.

“Did Dex and Nursey answer all of your questions?”

“Yeah, they know their stuff.”

“Lucky for me, they’re quick learners. It helped that both of them worked at a Starbucks before.”

“They’re good kids,” Jack said as he wrapped his hands around the warm mug.

“When they’re not at each other’s throats,” Eric frowned then chuckled. “But Dex and Nursey have found one thing they have in common: their love of chirping Chowder.”

“Dex, Nursey, Chowder?” Jack smirked. “Let me guess, hockey players?”

“That obvious, huh?” Eric laughed. “Yeah, all three of them are seniors at Classical. Nurse and Dex are D-men and Chowder’s a goalie. They’re hoping to get into Brown and play hockey there. I know some Brown scouts have come and watched their games—so maybe? They’re super excited you’re here, you know, even though they’re trying to play it cool.”

“I guess hockey is just destined to follow me everywhere, eh?” Jack said, chagrined.

“If you want me to keep hockey out of here, I can arrange that and not have those boys bring it up—if that’s what you want.”

Eric paused and looked at Jack with an eyebrow raised.

“Jack, can I be frank?”

“Not if it’s going to make me panic,” Jack replied with a nervous smile.

Eric smiled reassuringly. “No, it’s just—and I mean this in the nicest possible way—and you can tell me to go jump up my own butt, as I have been told that I’m too nosey for my own good.”

Jack looked at Bitty, cautiously, “Okay?”

“Why are you here? Not that I don’t want you here, but… why?”

Jack shrugged and really, honestly contemplated the answer. 

“My father lives with me… which I guess isn’t newsworthy or whatever, so we pretty much rely on each other now.” He paused and looked down into this coffee. “When maman died, it was hard. It was hard, and I guess you could say we both got into a funk.”

Eric listened patiently, and Jack found himself opening up with ease—something he rarely did.

“He’s been on me to find a job, to do _something_ , and this place… well, it seemed happy. You know? Easy. So yeah, maybe it’s just washing dishes, but today was the first time in a long time I felt like part of a team again.”

“That’s all any of us want is a little happiness and belonging, right?” Eric said softly.

Jack shrugged again, then nodded slightly. 

“And I know what it’s like to lose a parent. Coach, my daddy, passed on four years ago, and it’s something that you really never get over, right? I still miss him something fierce. And my mama, well, it took her a long time to be okay… so I totally get where you’re comin’ from, Jack.”

Eric patted Jack’s hand, then took a gulp of his coffee and dabbed at his eye. Jack felt relieved; he felt good getting all that off his chest. Jack didn’t have anyone to talk to about this stuff. His therapist was fine but he only saw her once a month now, and he didn’t want to burden Shitty and Lardo with his problems (they were busy enough with work and three kids.) With Eric, it felt natural, and as though he could trust him.

“You’re 100% welcome to work here as long as you want, Jack, and I meant it if you want me to talk to the boys about zippin’ it on the hockey talk, just say the word.”

“No, it’s okay… I just don’t want it to be a big deal.”

“It doesn’t have to be. They’ll only know you as their Heavenly Associate, who used to play a little hockey, and nothing more.”

Jack tried to smother a chuckle that suddenly escaped, and covered it up with a cough.

“Hey, now! Don’t be making fun of me, Jack Zimmermann.”

“No, I wasn’t,” he said, still smiling. “It’s fine, really!”

“Corny? Probably, but it keeps everyone on the same playing field,” Eric said without backing down. “I think it’s cute.” 

“Yeah, you’re right,” Jack said as he grinned and took a small sip of his coffee. “Okay.”

“Besides, not all of us can be cool enough to own the entire Mr. Rogers cardigan collection,” Eric said smugly with a grin of his own as he side-eyed Jack and took a sip from his mug.

Jack gave out a hearty laugh.

**+++**

After his third week at Bits of Heaven, Jack had his routine down pat. He’d come in, get to work on whatever dishes Dex or Nursey couldn’t finish, he’d bus tables, restocked the pantry when the deliveries would come in, and throw out the trash with Chowder. He’d bus tables; then when Eric flipped the shop closed sign, he’d start putting chairs on tables and mop.

Eric in the meantime counted the drawer, would let Jack pick two things to take home to Bob, then he’d pack up leftovers for the local women’s shelter (which was on his way home). They’d clean and chat the entire time. They’d talk about any and everything, and soon Jack began to think of Eric as a friend. 

By 7:00, they’d walk out the door and say their good nights, and fifteen minutes later, Jack would be home just as Bob was putting dinner on the table.

By his sixth week, Jack was also a barista.

“How’s the bread business?” Bob asked as he carved into a roast one night during dinner.

“Raking in the dough,” Jack deadpanned.

“How’s Eric?” 

“Fine. I mean, fine, I guess. He’s so busy—which is good, but he practically lives there. I told Eric he needs more help. He’s going to burn himself out.”

“We wouldn’t want that, eh?” Bob said and wagged his eyebrows.

“No, but why are you saying it like that?” Jack asked as he cut into his potato.

“Like what?” Bob shrugged innocently.

“Weird.”

“I haven’t the foggiest what you mean, son. So what did you bring tonight?”

“Key lime bars.”

“Score,” Bob replied.

**+++**

“How’s Mr. Jack’s Dad?” Eric asked one evening as he cleaned out the coffee grinder.

“He has his good days and bad days, I guess,” Jack replied and sprayed the main display case with window cleaner. He crouched down on his haunches and wiped proficiently with newspaper.

“Well, I’d love to finally get him in here and give him the best cherry pie of his life in person.”

“I have no idea why he hasn’t stopped by yet,” Jack shrugged.

“Does your dad ever go... on dates?”

“Dates?” Jack frowned. “No, I don’t think he’s quite ready for that yet.”

“My mama called the other day and asked me if I was dating anyone,” Eric said. “Which is weird, because if I were, she’d be the first person I’d tell so that she could get off my gosh darn back.”

Eric walked over to the other side of the display case and slid down to sit next to where Jack was working.

“So it turns out, she didn’t care if I was seeing anyone, it was just her segue to tell me _she_ has gone out on a couple of dates with someone.”

Jack paused and turned to look at Eric. “Huh.”

“Huh is right. ‘Dicky,’ she said—and hush, you, not a word about her calling me Dicky--”

Jack chuckled.

“‘Dicky,’ she said, ‘I have to tell you something, but I hope you won’t be upset.’ So I say, ‘Of course not, mama. Why would I be upset about anything you had to tell me?’”

Jack smiled; he loved when Eric would go into his full-on chatter mode, just take off running and not even stop for a breath. 

“So she then goes on to tell me that she met someone online through Bumble, or whatever, and they’ve gone out a couple of times and please, please, please, please can I not be upset.”

Jack slid down next to Eric. 

He then jumped back up and said, “Hold on.” 

Jack returned with a giant snickerdoodle and handed it to Eric.

“Here, I feel like you might need this.”

“Well, it’s a not a glass of vodka but it’ll do,” Eric offered a tiny smile in return as he took the cookie and bit into it.

He chewed and continued, “So she says he’s real nice, and they’ve eaten at Ricardo's Kouzzina a couple times, and…”

Eric paused and nibbled on the cookie absentmindedly.

“And?” Jack prompted.

“And she kissed him,” Eric said softly. “And that she hoped I wouldn’t be upset, but she didn’t want to keep anything from me.”

Eric passed the cookie over to Jack then sighed.

“I shouldn’t mind. Of course, I shouldn't! Lord, it’s been four years. She deserves to go out and have fun—”

“Still, I imagine it’s a little bit tough,” Jack added and returned the snickerdoodle. “I can’t even picture papa going out on a date.”

“But he wouldn’t, would he? You said it yourself, he’s not ready, right? Meanwhile, I guess mama… well, she is. She’s finally moved on.”

“It’s hard sometimes remembering that our parents were actual people with their own lives and dreams before they were our parents.”

Eric nodded. “Yep.”

The two sat quietly for a moment until Eric finally spoke again.

“The kicker? _She’s_ dating and I’m not.”

Jack huffed out a small laugh. “You and I can form a club then, I guess?”

“Okay, enough wallowing. We’re both good lookin’ fellas; we should be out there in the dating world, right?”

“Sure?”

“We’re good catches, come on. Let’s put ourselves out there. We can be each other’s cheerleader and support group. What do you say? Two friends conquering the dating world! If my mama can date, then damn it, so can we.”

“God, do I have to reopen my Grindr account?” Jack groaned. “I forgot my damn password.” 

Eric laughed. “ _NineInchBaker_ rises again.”

“ _Crisse_ , that is not your Grindr name, is it?” Jack laughed.

“I was referencing my favorite baking pan—who knew it would get me so much attention,” he said as his cheeks pinked and he covered his face.

The two laughed, and when the laughter subsided, Eric looked down at the cookie in his hand.

“His name is Steen, Jack. He’s an accountant and knew Coach. Steen… what kind of a name is Steen?”

Jack patted Eric on the hand and reached over to take a chunk of the snickerdoodle. The two sat silently watching the cars drive by...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, Bob. He always knows, doesn't he? 
> 
> So what's my plan here? I guess we're totally going the friends to lovers route, eh? They're soft and sweet. My plan is to still update once a week (or in this case twice). 
> 
> Also, this is basically the Dex, Nursey and Chowder we met in [_Tadpoles_](https://omgcheckplease.tumblr.com/post/90770286862)—only without Andover and the "good at baking" comment.
> 
> xoxo


	3. A Kindred Spirit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack finds out about Eric's past career, and Bob finally meets Eric.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lots of talking in this chapter.

“The Martinez family called and asked if they can add another two dozen cupcakes to their order,” Jack said as he poked his head into the kitchen. “Or is it too late?”

Eric looked up at him, flour smeared on this cheek, hands elbow deep in an enormous mixing bowl. 

“Really? Good lord. Yeah, that’s fine. Jeez Louise, only one day before they’re picking up.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll help you,” Jack said with a smile. 

Eric replied with a buttery thumbs up.

With the hockey season in full swing over at the high school, Chowder, Dex, and Nursey cut back on their weekday hours but were still there on the weekends. So Jack picked up some of the slack and finally convinced Eric to hire two more people. 

Business was booming at Bits of Heaven. There was usually a line out the door for the early morning donut run, and Providence commuters left to work happy with a bit of heaven in a brown paper bag and to-go mug. Everyone knew Bits of Heaven as The Place for pies and cakes, and Jack couldn’t help but feel proud of being a part of it all. 

By now, word had gotten out that ex-Providence Falconers captain, Jack Zimmermann was, in fact, working at Bits of Heaven. A news crew came by one afternoon and interviewed Jack, after someone had Tweeted his picture, much to his chagrin. Bob, however, had convinced Jack to use the opportunity to promote the bakery. 

Eric smiled as Jack pulled him in front of the news camera.

“This is Eric Bittle, he’s the owner of Bits of Heaven. He's a total genius, and everything here is the icing on the cake,” Jack said laughing at his own goofy pun. 

“Lord,” Eric snorted as the crew recorded them both.

After a few weeks, the novelty wore off and people just knew him as Jack from the bakery. And Jack found he really enjoyed that.

“Bits of Heaven, how can I help you?” Jack said into the phone as he handed someone their change, and waved goodbye.

“Yes, can I speak with Eric Bittle?” a voice asked.

“I’m sorry, he can’t come to the phone right now but I can take a message,” Jack said. He balanced the phone between his ear and his shoulder, took a napkin and grabbed a pen.

“Just tell him Michael from the magazine called. He’ll know who this is and how to get in touch with me. Thanks.”

Jack frowned. “Oh, uh, okay. Sure, I’ll let him know. Bye.”

Jack leaned against the counter as he enjoyed the brief lull after the commuter rush but before lunch hour. He let out a whoosh of air and could hear Eric in the back singing to some Beyoncé song on the oldies station.

Just then the bell above the door rang and Bob strolled in. The two waved at each other, and Bob ambled over to his usual spot—the cozy armchair in the corner next to the bookshelf. 

Bob began visiting the bakery last month after he said to Jack, “I think I’ve let you settle in long enough. It’s time for me to come and meet this Eric character.”

“Papa, please don’t embarrass me, or yourself,” Jack pleaded that morning as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Me? Embarrassing? When have I ever, son?”

When Bob met Eric, he was instantly charmed, just as Jack had been. He walked into Bits of Heaven while Jack and Eric were happily chatting, leaning on their elbows over the counter, looking at the latest JB Prince catalog that had arrived in that day’s mail.

The two were laughing about some silly joke that Jack had just made (Jack enjoyed the fact that Eric could appreciate a good pun) and didn’t notice Bob standing in front of them until he cleared his throat.

“Oh!” Jack said and stood up straight. “You’re here.”

Bob smirked. “Should I not be?”

Jack knitted his brow. “What are you talking about? We were expecting you. Eric, this is my father, Bob. Papa, this is Eric.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Eric had said.

“Likewise. It’s nice to finally see where Jack has been spending all his time. I can see why he likes it here so much.”

Eric laughed, clearly confused. “Oh?”

“Everything looks delicious,” Bob said plainly. “This is a clutch bakery you have here, son.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Sir? None of that. Please, call me Bad Bob.”

Eric laughed again. “How about I just call you Bob?”

Bob chuckled and then stopped when Eric pulled a gift box out from under the counter and placed it in front of him.

“Now when Jack told me you were visiting today, I decided to make something special for you.” Eric leaned in a whispered conspiratorially, “They’re not even on the menu.”

“Ooo,” Bob said, then opened the box and cheered. “Maple cookies? And Nanaimo bars?!”

“Only our most special guests get these,” Eric said with a bright smile. He then looked over his shoulder and sighed. 

“Bob, would you mind if I introduced you?” he jerked his thumb toward the kitchen. 

Chowder, Nursey, and Dex poked their heads out the doorway and watched Bob with utter awe on their faces.

“Not at all!”

“Boys, would you like to meet Bad Bob Zimmermann?”

They rushed over toward Bob and Eric, pushing Jack out of the way.

“Sir," Dex stammered as he extended his hand, "it’s--it’s an honor to meet you,” His face flushed red.

“Anytime I’m feeling down about my playing," Nursey chimed in, "I ask myself, ‘What would Bad Bob do?’ and then I think about it and feel 100% better.”

“Mr. Bad,” Chowder said earnestly, “when you dropped your gloves against Lapointe in the Good Friday Massacre, that was... sheer perfection. The way you came to Penney’s defense! I watch that fight over and over and over on YouTube.” 

“Those goddamn Nordiques,” Bob said as he shook his fist.

“Chill,” Nursey said with reverence as Bob laughed as the boys crowded around him some more and chattered away. 

Jack watched the entire interaction and beamed; he loved seeing his father happy. 

Now, Bob was a Bits of Heaven regular who came in just about every day. He would read the latest _Sports Illustrated_ or do a crossword puzzle while he drank his coffee. On the weekends he’d chat with the boys (whom Bob began to collectively call The Frogs because they were “so vocal and full of jumpy energy”). He became Eric’s taste tester and quickly established a friendly rapport with him. Bob told Jack, right away, that he liked Eric immensely.

“He’s a straight shooter,” Bob had proclaimed. “What you see is what you get with him, and I like that.”

 

“Hey, papa,” Jack said as Bob took a book from the bookcase next to his armchair. “Today’s special is a raspberry danish with mascarpone.”

“Sign me up, son,” Bob replied.

Eric walked out with a tray of croissants, fresh from the oven, and slid them into the display case.

“Robert,” he called out and nodded while he rearranged some pastries.

“Eric,” Bob replied with a cheesy grin.

“Someone just called for you,” Jack said as he made a caffè latte for Bob.

“Who?”

“Some guy named Michael. He said he was from the magazine and you would know what that meant.”

“Michael… huh,” Eric said and paused his work.

“Is everything all right?” Jack asked.

"No, yeah. Everything is fine," Eric said then shoved the rest of the pastries in. He got up and walked back toward the ovens.

Jack and Bob exchanged a look.

Later as Jack was closing up the front of the house, he could hear Eric talking quietly on the phone. 

"I'm not interested, Michael... No, I don't want anyone out here. God, especially not him—how could you even ask me that? Yes, I'm aware of the exposure but I'm happy how things are..."

Jack didn't mean to eavesdrop but they were all alone and Eric's voice grew louder and louder.

"Michael, no. I said no. No, I'm not going to write anything either. I gotta go. Thanks for thinking of me, I guess."

Eric walked out and Jack quickly swept up the rest of the floor.

"Is, uh, everything okay?" he asked as nonchalantly as he could.

"Yes. No. I don't know... "

Jack leaned against the broom and looked at Eric, waiting for him to continue without being pushed. When it was clear Eric wasn't going to say anything else, Jack resorted to other measures.

"Do you want to come over for dinner?” Jack finally said. “Papa won't mind. In fact, he'd love it."

Eric worried his lip, then nodded.

"Yeah, that would be great, Jack. Thank you."

“Great, I’ll text him right now to put another place setting out.”

The two closed up shop and made the quick drive over to Jack’s place. Bob eagerly swung open the door before Jack could even put the key in.

“I hope you like pappardelle bolognese because it’s my specialty and that’s what we’re having,” Bob said excitedly.

Eric came in and gave Bob a quick hug.

“Thanks for having me over,” he said.

“Nonsense, it’s about time you did. Jack, give Eric a tour while I finish up in the kitchen. Meet you in the dining room in five minutes.”

“Um, sure, okay,” Jack said as Bob pushed the two of them toward the living room.

“Can I help with anything?” Eric called out.

“No, no, I have it all under control,” Bob said and hurried back to the kitchen as he gave them a quick wave.

“So this is the living room, there’s the dining room, that’s the gym, and here’s my office,” Jack walked down his hallway. “Here’s the powder room, and this is papa’s bedroom and over here, uh, is mine.”

The door was slightly ajar and when Eric tried to peek in, Jack closed the door. 

“I didn’t actually make my bed this morning,” he said quickly.

“Shocking! I had you pegged as Mr. Hospital Corners; a perfectly made bed, every morning.”

“Um, usually,” Jack blushed as they walked back to the kitchen. “You can see it some other time, I promise.” 

Jack offered Eric a tiny smile, who in turn grinned.

“Sure, no big deal.”

Jack and Eric stared at each other, each one still smiling, maybe for a beat too long, and Jack felt… nice. Nice was the only way he could describe it. Odd… but nice.

“Jack? Eric?” Bob called out from the dining room. “The table is set.” 

Whatever bubble he felt, suddenly burst, and Eric cleared his throat. 

“I’m going to wash my hands first, okay?”

“Sure,” Jack replied.

“Meet you in the dining room,” Eric said and quickly walked away.

Jack frowned as he wondered exactly what had just happened.

**+**

Eric was practically doubled-over with laughter as Bob continued.

“And then the smell hit, and Ali and I were both wondering if something had died. No, it was just our child who apparently thought so little of _La Coupe Stanley_ , he had to take a dump in it.”

Eric gasped and snorted. “Oh, Jack!”

"His little onesie was just soaked with poo," Bob laughed. 

"Onesie? It sounds like it was more of a number _two_ -sie!" Eric added as Bob laughed even harder. 

“One day, my father will be tired of telling this story,” Jack said dryly. “Apparently, today is not the day.”

Eric wiped the tears in the corner of his eyes and sighed. “Lord, Jack. You really don’t do anything half-assed, do you?”

“Oh no, he absolutely used his whole ass for that ordeal,” Bob shot back as Eric began to cackle again.

After dessert, Eric insisted on washing the dishes and Bob began to yawn loudly.

“Pardon me!” he said. “It is way past my bedtime—almost ten. You two are lucky you have tomorrow off so you can stay up as late as you want.”

“Night, Bob,” Eric said as he wiped his hands on a dishtowel. He walked over and gave Bob a hug. “Thanks again for the delicious dinner.”

“It’s nice seeing you outside of heaven,” Bob said with a wink. 

“Good night, papa,” Jack called out as he grabbed two wine glasses.

“ _Bonne nuit_ , Jack,” Bob said with a soft smile and walked to his room.

“Lord, I should get going soon, too,” Eric said.

“I was going to ask if you wanted some wine,” Jack said as he meekly waved the glasses. 

Jack couldn’t remember the last time they had had anyone over for dinner. It was probably Shitty and Lardo when they were in town a while back. Shitty was presenting at an ACLU conference, and Lardo’s parents had the kids for the weekend. That had been a great night and this… this felt just as good.

Eric scrunched up his face as if he were thinking about it. 

“Okay, fine. One glass, because even though we’re closed tomorrow, I have to go to Restaurant Depot early to pick up an order.”

“I can go with you, if you want,” Jack said as they settled into the couch.

“No, it’s your day off. Goodness, you don’t have to run errands with me, Jack. You’re probably sick of me, anyhow.”

“I don’t mind, really.”

The two smiled at each other again, and then Jack said, “I can’t believe you’ve never come over before. It seems weird, you know?”

“Right? I mean, we see each other just about every day, and we’re good friends, but there’s still so much we haven’t done, or even know about each other.”

“So about that… are you okay?” Jack said as he just dove right on in. “I didn’t mean to listen in on your conversation earlier today, but you seemed upset. And as a good friend, I just want to make sure you’re fine—or if there’s anything I could help with.”

“The man who called? That was Michael, my former editor. He wanted to send someone out to do a story on Bits of Heaven… but I don’t want my old life stampeding on my new one.”

“You were a journalist?” Jack asked as the two settled onto the couch.

“Yeah, it seems like a lifetime ago. I was a food writer for _Saveur_ and _Food & Wine_. I was damn good at it, too. I traveled a lot, and met a lot of great people writing about their food, their restaurants, their dreams…”

Jack watched as Eric got a far-off look in his eyes.

“One week, I would be in Singapore writing about the outdoor food courts, then I’d be in some small Appalachian town writing about someone’s apple stack recipe. It was great, but I knew I was traveling too much. I hardly saw Dimitri--”

“Dimitri?” Jack asked.

Eric rolled his eyes. “Yeah… um, we were sort of engaged.”

“Oh,” Jack replied. 

He had no idea, and it saddened him how little he really knew about Eric’s past.

“Dimitri, a food stylist. We met on location and lived together in Brooklyn. Anyway, we were going to get married. His work was based in New York, but with me gone all the time, it was hard, you know?”

Jack nodded. “I think part of the reason Camilla and I divorced was because we stopped having any sort of connection. She once told me she felt like a mariner’s wife, and eventually, it was easier for her when I was gone.”

“Ouch,” Eric said.

“It’s hard to live with someone when you feel like you don’t know them anymore,” Jack said matter-of-factly. “I think it really went both ways, plus there was the whole kid thing.”

“Kid thing?” 

“She wanted some… and I guess I didn’t. And that’s a fundamental thing we should have discussed before we got married, eh?”

“I love kids, I really do,” Eric said, “but tell people you don’t want to have any, and suddenly you’re a selfish monster.”

“Kids are great,” Jack said. “My friends, Shitty and Lardo have three, and I love them to death. The peewee hockey team I coached when I was 20 literally saved my life. I still keep in touch with a lot of those kids, but I never really saw myself as a father.”

“No, I totally get it. My best friends, Ransom and Holster, have two of their own and I love being their uncle and spoilin’ them every chance I get. I love my found family, you know?” Eric added.

“Yeah, I get that... So,” Jack prompted, "Dimitri."

“Right. Dimitri. Well, he said he had more of a relationship with the receptionist in my office than with me because he was always talking to him to try to get a hold me.” Eric huffed out a small bitter laugh, “It ended up being true. Dimitri cheated on me with Frank—the receptionist—and you know what the saddest part was? I really didn’t even care.”

Jack watched Eric as he absentmindedly swirled his wine.

“Dimitri said that the fact that I wasn’t breaking stuff and shouting when I found out showed that we shouldn’t be together anymore. I didn’t even care enough to be pissed off about it.” 

Eric took a small sip of his wine and sighed. 

“So Dimitri moved out, and I just went straight back to work as if my life hadn't capsized; street taquerias in Mexico City, kare kare in Manila, Old Bay ice cream in Baltimore. It was all about deadlines and constant go-go-go, and I was still writing about people’s food, dreams, and restaurants… and then I thought, what about _my_ food dreams? What about my restaurant? So I made a decision. I saved for a year, cashed out my 401K and now I have my baby.”

Jack smiled at Eric’s bravery.

“I’d forgotten that I’d been in love with baking since I was teeny tiny. How it used to be my happy place.” 

Jack nodded, happy he had found a somewhat kindred spirit. He knew exactly where Eric was coming from. 

"That’s how it was for me and hockey… it consumed everything I did and who I was. Once maman was in the thick of it, though, I wondered how much time did I waste on hockey when I could have spent it with them?”

“She knew you loved her,” Eric said. “I didn’t even have to know her, to know that…”

“Thanks,” Jack said softly.

The two continued talking, losing track of the time when Eric looked at his watch. 

“It’s three in the morning? Lord!”

“I had no idea,” Jack replied. 

“All right, I gotta go—otherwise, I’m gonna end up crashing on your sofa.”

“ _Ouais_ , it’s late. Or early, I guess.”

“Ha! It must be if you’re speaking French.”

Jack blushed. He got up and took Eric’s glass, and left them on the dining room table as he walked Eric to the door.

“Thanks again for dinner, and next time you two will have to come to my place,” Eric said with a sleepy smile.

“Yeah, it’s a deal.”

Eric let out a tiny yawn and waved. “See you at the salt mines.”

“Text me when you get home,” Jack said. “So I know you made it there safely.”

“Thanks, Jack. Will do!” Eric gave Jack a tiny salute and left.

Jack watched from the window as he drove away until he could no longer see Eric’s car. He turned off the lights and headed to his bedroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More info on the [Good Friday Massacre](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_wKeQJN3odA), which took place on April 20, 1984, the Habs against the Quebec Nordiques. I pretty much watched 30 minutes of this nonsense and loved every second of it.
> 
> Lord, I would love to write for [_Saveur_](https://www.saveur.com/). I love that magazine so much.
> 
> Hey! The frogs get to be called frogs, after all. Thanks, Bob!
> 
> And thanks to you for your enthusiasm with this fic. I'm really loving writing this one. <3


	4. A Connection with Someone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The frogs are not happy... and neither is Bob.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is kind of a bummer at the end. Poor Bob. CW: drinking.

“So? How did it go?” Jack asked as he put his apron on.

Eric sighed, a deep-born, long, drawn-out sigh.

“That good, eh?” Jack said with a smirk.

“Jack… he…” Eric pinched the bridge of his nose and then looked around to make sure no one was listening. “He just flat out asked me if I was power bottom, Jack. Like, not even a howdy-do, first?”

Jack snorted a laugh. “Holy shit!” 

“Yeah, no kidding, holy shit. At least let me finish my drink for goodness sake,” Eric said as he began to laugh. “And then, he pronounced espresso _expresso_. That's just a deal breaker right there.”

“That's kind of snobby,” Jack chirped.

“Jack Zimmermann, baked goods and coffee are my livelihood. If you were on a date and they had said _hookey_ you know you would have dashed right on out of there.”

Jack laughed again and nodded. “Probably. So what did you say about... you know?”

“What can one say to that?” Eric said as he flung his hands up. “I said it was nice meeting him, threw back my vodka tonic, and high tailed it out of there.”

“But not too high of a tail, right?”

Eric laughed as he playfully smacked Jack. 

“You’re the worst!”

Eric had braved a couple of Tinder and Grindr dates while Jack helped him decide if he should swipe left or right. So far, the results had been mixed for both of them, as Jack meanwhile, made a few matches on Tinder and Bumble, but had yet to go out with anyone. He’d been texting with a woman named Samantha who seemed nice enough. 

“Are we still on for the frogs’ game on Sunday?” Jack asked.

“Yep, I’ll pick you up. Your dad going?”

“He said yes, but lately he’s been a little down, so we’ll see.”

Just then Jack’s phone beeped.

“Oh, would that be the lovely Ms. Samantha?” Eric asked as Jack pulled out his phone and blushed.

“Yeah, we’re just finalizing plans for Saturday. We’ve been texting for a few weeks now, so we decided to finally go out.”

“She’s the dentist?”

“Hygienist.”

“Right. The pretty brunette with the grey eyes.”

“Yep.”

“You usually don’t go for brunettes, so I’m surprised—but I like her. She’s age-appropriate, smart, and apparently, likes your puns. Poor woman,” Eric said with a smile. 

Jack chuckled. “Please, you do too, so stop acting as if you don’t.”

“Oh, hey, before I forget,” Eric said, “it’s going to rain on Sunday. Make sure you take an Advil for your knee before we go out.”

“Thanks,” Jack said as he responded to Samatha’s text.

**+++**

The _swish swish swish_ of blades on ice was always such a familiar sound to Jack’s ears but now, however, he had a completely different relationship with it. It had become one that provided entertainment—not anxiety. He was truly enjoying himself as he watched his young friends play with a carefree passion that Jack knew he never had. 

“Check out that deke!” Jack yelled out as Nursey weaved in and around a player from Trinity High. 

“Go, number 28!” Eric yelled. “Nice!”

Dex gave Nursey a quick fist bump and then skated away backward, smiling. 

The Classical team was up 2-1, and Nursey and Dex were magic on the ice. Chowder as goalie just solidified their already strong team. Everything was going well until Nursey was battling in the corner, and a Trinity player came out of nowhere and checked him hard, sending Nursey flying across the ice, dazed. Dex came out, like a bat out of hell, and dropped his gloves throwing a fist with purpose.

“Oh my god!” Eric called out and covered his eyes as the Dex and the Trinity player began to fight in earnest.

Jack and Eric could see Dex fuming in the sin bin, as Nursey was looked over by their coach and finally stood up and shook it off.

“Dex looks murderous,” Jack said as he gripped Eric’s arm.

Eric squeezed Jack’s hand and nervously jumped up and down.

In the end, Classical won 3-1, and Jack asked the frogs, if it was okay with their parents, if they wanted to go have a celebratory burger.

“My moms said yes,” Nursey came back smiling and pulling Dex along.

Chowder soon emerged and nodded. “Remember, I'm allergic to peanuts, so we can't go to Five Guys.”

“Are you paying?” Dex asked, the side of his cheek still red and tender from the earlier scuffle.

“Classy, dude. Real classy,” Nursey shot back.

“I’m just asking!” Dex replied loudly.

“Guys, can we please not embarrass ourselves in front of Mr. Jack?!” Chowder sighed as they all walked out of the rink.

“Can we go to Lux?” Nursey asked. 

“Sure,” Jack replied with a smile.

“Chowder, honey, pull on your hood. It's pretty chilly,” Eric called out.

“You and that damn snooty hipster burger place, I swear,” Dex said to Nursey, as he rolled his eyes. 

“You think anywhere with real napkins is a snooty hipster place, Poindexter, _I_ swear,” Nursey yelled.

Eric smirked and leaned over to whisper to Jack, as the frogs laughed, argued and high-fived each other while they walked ahead, “Who needs kids when we already have these three?”

Jack laughed and agreed.

**+**

“You did well,” Jack said as he took a bite of his burger. “Just remember, if you can see a player’s eyes, you have to contain them. If you see their numbers, or they bobble the puck, that's when you pressure them. Don’t forget.”

The frogs nodded and eagerly finished their burgers as Jack watched them. How wonderful to play with so much heart, so much love. He envied their carefree ways and was happy this group of loud, lovable kids was in his life. Jack then turned and noticed Eric smiling brightly at him. 

“What?” Jack said.

“Nothing,” Eric quickly replied and tucked back into his burger.

_beep-boop_

“Oh. Sorry.” Jack pulled out his phone from his pocket and quickly took a peek. 

“Is it Samantha?” Eric asked as he nudged Jack with his elbow. 

“Yeah. She just wanted to send me this history meme she just saw.”

Jack showed Eric his phone, Eric giggled. 

“She's cute.”

Jack could feel eyes on them, and he looked up to find the frogs staring at them intently. 

“Who's Samantha?” Chowder asked softly. 

Jack could feel his cheeks turn red, and Eric kindly jumped to the rescue. 

“Samantha is a nice lady Mr. Jack went out on a date with yesterday, and anything else is none of your beeswax.”

The frogs exchanged glances.

“Dude, you went out on a date?” Nursey asked. 

“Yeah,” Jack replied. 

Another exchange of glances, then the frogs looked back at Jack and Eric.

“But…” Chowder began as Dex frowned heavily. 

Dex bumped Nursey with his shoulder, who then bumped Chowder as he mumbled, “Chill.”

“What?” Jack asked. “What is it?”

Nursey and Chowder looked at Dex who shook his head once. 

“Nothing,” Dex replied.

The three continued eating without so much as a peep.

**+++**

“What was that all about?” Eric asked as they walked back to their car after the boys were picked up from the restaurant.

“I have no idea,” Jack replied.

One minute they were laughing and having fun and the next the frogs totally shut down. Even Chowder was quiet—and that kid could talk almost as much as Eric.

“You have your dad’s burger?” Eric asked and unlocked the car door for Jack.

“Yeah, I hope he hasn’t eaten yet.”

“You know him, even if he has, he’ll eat again. You’re just like him!” Eric laughed. “I love a man who can eat--” Eric froze and then stuttered. “I mean, you two have a healthy appetite.”

“Uh, yeah, sure,” Jack replied not sure what Eric was stumbling over his words about. “It’s a Zimmermann trait, I guess.” 

He laughed lamely hoping to put Eric back at ease. Maybe he thought he insulted Jack by calling him a big eater? It was the truth, so no need to get all riled up over it, Jack thought.

“So, finally! Tell me about your date,” Eric said.

“It was okay.”

"Just okay?"

"Yeah. We had dinner, talked for a bit. I was home by ten. It was okay," Jack shrugged.

“Okay? Whew! What a bodice ripper. Be still my quivering loins,” Eric laughed.

“It’s not like we were going to have sex on the first date,” Jack said. “I barely know her.”

Eric scrunched his face. “What? You’ve never had sex on a first date? Or a one night stand?”

Jack shook his head. “No, never. Have you?”

Eric stared intently at the road ahead.

"Have you?" Jack asked again.

“Oh, will you look at the time?” Eric finally squeaked out. "We should be getting you home."

“Well, well, well,” Jack chuckled. “It’s always the innocent looking ones.”

“Look, you!" Eric smirked. "I’m not going to let you slut-shame me. I am a grown-ass man!”

Jack laughed, “No, I’m kidding! Shitty would have my head if I did such a thing. I just… I have to really be comfortable with someone to sleep with them.”

Eric glanced at Jack, “Really? So Mr. NHL Roadie never hooked up with any puck bunnies? Male or female?”

“I was married?”

“Oh, right. I forgot. Well, how about before then?”

Jack shrugged. “Once, in college. And I felt weird about it afterward. Like I said, I have to have a connection with someone.”

“But, don’t you just ever…”

“Ever what?”

"Nothing," Eric said as he shook his head. "Never mind."

"Tell me."

“Don’t you just ever want to get…” Eric gripped the steering wheel. “You know?”

“No, what?” Jack asked.

“POUNDED like there’s no tomorrow?” Eric said then turned all sorts of shades of red.

“Eric Richard Bittle!” Jack gasped with faux scandal in his voice.

“Oh fuck off, Zimmermann,” Eric said with a grin as Jack laughed.

“I mean, yeah… but it’s been a while.”

The two were quiet for a few blocks, then Eric pulled up in front of Jack’s place.

“Thanks for the ride,” Jack said.

“Thanks for the burger.”

The two smiled at each other, then Jack finally exited the car.

"See ya, Jack."

"See you, Eric."

When Jack opened the door, he was surprised not to find papa on the couch watching _Murder, She Wrote_ ; that was his usual Sunday night routine.

“Papa?”

Jack walked into the dark kitchen and turned on the lights.

Bob sat at the table, sniffling, holding a framed photo of Alicia. An almost-empty bottle of Scotch sat in front of him.

“Papa!” Jack said as he rushed over to Bob.

«It would have been fifty-three years today», Bob slurred as he wiped at this eyes. «Fifty-three!»

“Shit,” Jack called out as Bob tried to get up and slipped onto the floor. “Shit, shit, shit!”

Jack heard a knock on the door.

“Jack! You forgot your dad’s burger in the car,” Eric called out from the other side.

«Shit, papa! Stay there—don’t move», Jack said. 

He ran to the door and pulled Eric in. Eric’s smile faded instantly.

“Jack, what’s wrong?!”

“Papa is drunk in the kitchen, alone, because I’m the asshole who forgot it’s their anniversary today!” Jack cried out.

“Oh lord,” Eric said and ran into the kitchen.

Eric squatted down and held Bob’s face.

“Bob, honey? Jack and I are going to help you up, okay?”

«Sounds good», he replied.

“Since I don’t speak French, I’m just gonna assume that’s a yes,” Eric said as he motioned to Jack. “Lift him under his arm, like this.”

Jack, both sad and mortified, lifted his papa up and, with Eric’s help, finally got him into his bed. He went down like a sack of flour.

“Robert, you want some tea?” Eric asked as he patted Bob’s hand.

«Sounds good», he mumbled again.

“Well, at least you’re consistent, sweetheart,” Eric said kindly.

He looked at Jack. “Can you get him in his pajamas while I make the tea?”

«Yes, I will», Jack replied as he watched his father.

“English, sweetpea. Please,” Eric said.

“Shit! Sorry, sorry, yeah. Go, I’ll get him changed. Thank you,” Jack said as he scrubbed his face.

Jack gently removed his dad’s pants and slipped on his pajama bottoms. He left his Habs sweatshirt on and tucked his father into bed.

«I miss her», Bob said softly.

«I miss her too, papa», Jack said as his voice cracked. «I’m sorry you were alone tonight. I’m so sorry.» 

Eric came in a few minutes later with a mug of tea in his hands.

“Do you think he wants this?” he asked Jack quietly.

“No, I think he’s done for the night, but I’ll drink it,” Jack said.

Bob rustled in his sleep and then slurred, “You make such a nice couple... I’m so glad you found each other.” 

He then began to snore softly.

Eric and Jack exchanged an awkward glance.

Eric finally spoke. “I better go."

"Okay," Jack said. Not exactly sure what else to say.

"Give him plenty of water when he wakes up, and some Tylenol."

"Thanks, Eric."

"Sure. I'll see you tomorrow, Jack,” Eric said as he patted Jack on the shoulder and began to leave. "Oh, and Jack?"

"Yeah?"

"You're not an asshole."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I dunno, this fic is just flowing out of me—so here's another chapter. I know I won't have a chapter until this weekend, because I'm going out of town for a few days.
> 
> Thanks again for all of your kind and thoughtful comments.
> 
> Also! It's hard writing a hockey game. I feel like [Chance the Rapper](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8Ij4a6x_mPs). LOL! They sure are hockeying!
> 
> xo


	5. Zimmboni and Bitty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack has a realization and meets Bitty's friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now we're getting somewhere...

Jack tossed and turned in bed that night. He sat up and grabbed his phone from the nightstand. There were three texts from Samantha he hadn't responded to yet.

Jack read the texts, then typed a message.

 _Just checking in and saying good night._

He paused and continued.

 _Thank you for being such a good friend._

He sat up in bed and hoped the message would let Eric know that he knew they weren’t a couple. They were friends—Jack even considered Eric his best friend, and he’d hate for anything to get weird between them.

Eric never showed any interest in Jack, and yes, Jack thought Eric was attractive and sweet and smart and brave and had a fantastic smile… but they were just friends. Right?

_RIGHT?_

Jack felt his heart begin to race, and his nose instantly began to prickle with sweat. His hands were clammy as he gripped his phone which _beep-booped_ right away.

 **Eric** : _Of course, Jack. You’re my best friend._

Jack instantly felt disappointed. _Best friend_. 

Jack sat still and examined what he was feeling. What had his therapist told him years ago? _Learn to trust what you feel, what you feel in your gut._

Jack paused then the realization hit.

“Oh, for fuck's sake!” he said. 

Okay, so he’d take this to his grave for now. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Jack flung his phone and burrowed into his covers pulling them over his head, hiding from himself and the world.

**+++**

Bob ambled out onto the kitchen in his pajamas and bathrobe, and sheepishly smiled at Jack who sat at the table drinking his morning coffee. He looked at his father, got up, and pulled another mug from the cupboard. He poured Bob some coffee and handed it to him.

“Thanks, son.”

Bob sat down, then rubbed his temples.

“I feel like I got hit by a freight train.”

“I bet.” 

“So, I’ve been thinking…”

“About?”

“I’ve been thinking about going to visit Wayne for a few days.”

“Really?” Jack asked.

“Well, he and Janet have been wanting me to come over for a while, so I think I should. It’ll be nice to get out, and give you a little space, too.”

“A little space? What for?”

“For whatever.” 

Bob took a sip of coffee and did not elaborate any further.

“How are you feeling?” Jack asked.

“Taking it one day at a time, that's all I can do. Thanks for taking care of me last night.”

“It was mostly Eric.”

“He’s a good egg, that one.”

“Yeah, he is.”

“Isn’t he though?” Bob said and looked at Jack as he raised his eyebrow.

“We’re just friends, papa.”

“Is that all you want? Friendship?”

“Doesn’t matter what I want.”

“Doesn’t it?” 

Jack didn't want to talk about it, so he quickly changed the subject. “Papa, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I wasn’t here for you last night.”

Bob shook his head. “Jack, I’m not your responsibility. I’m sorry if I ever made you feel that I was.”

“But we’re family, and I’m here if you ever want to talk or anything.”

“I know, son.” 

“You want some bacon and eggs à la Jack?” Jack asked.

“Yes, indeedy,” Bob replied with a smile.

**+++**

“Jack, there are some guys here to see you?” Denice yelled toward the kitchen.

“Care to elaborate?” he yelled back as he pulled a batch of dough out of the proofer.

“They’re really big and loud,” she answered.

Tony added, practically shrieking, “And they're Falconers!”

Jack’s face burst into a grin. He wiped his hands on his apron and walked out there not sure who he’d find but excited nonetheless. 

The bakery was buzzing as people in the shop were taking pictures of Tater and Snowy who were busy shaking hands and signing all sorts of things.

“All right, all right,” Jack said as he broke up the crowd. “Everyone give these cornballs some breathing room.”

“Zimmboni, you’re baker now!” 

“Hey, man,” Jack said as Tater gave him a giant bear hug.

Snowy fist bumped Jack. 

“Jack, man, look at you, all baker-y and shit,” he said with a hearty laugh.

“Sit, go and sit, and I’ll bring you something good,” Jack said.

Denice and Tony smiled and waved from the register.

“Aren’t you going to introduce me to pretty eyes over there?” Denice asked as she threw a flirty wave at Snowy.

“You’re too good for him, Ford,” Jack replied and rung up two cherry tarts.

“Let a girl live, Zimmermann.”

“Damn, I keep forgetting you’re one of them,” Tony said. 

“I’m not,” Jack said matter-of-factly. “I’m one of you. Do you two mind if I take my break right now?”

“I don’t care,” Denice said, “as long as you introduce me, damn it.”

Jack laughed. “Fine, come on.”

“Ford, this is Aiden and Alexei. Guys, this is Denice.”

“Happy to meet such lovely woman,” Tater said as he kissed Denice’s hand.

“Oh, brother,” Jack laughed.

“What about you?” she said to Snowy. “Are you a hand kisser, too?”

Snowy smiled, “I have been known to kiss a lady’s hand now and then.”

“Okay, you two,” Jack said with a chuckle. 

“Do you want some coffee?” Denice asked.

“Please,” Tater said as he took one of the tarts, demolishing half of it in one bite.

“Thank you, Ford,” Jack said.

“Yeah, thank you, Ford,” Snowy added with a wink.

“Knock it off,” Jack said. “She’s like a kid sister to me.”

Snowy smiled. “So how’s tricks?”

“Good," Jack said, and he meant it. "I’m happy dealing in cakes and pies."

“Zimmboni, we wanted to come sooner but didn’t know if you wanted anyone here,” Tater said and wiped from crumbs from his face.

“Why?”

“We didn’t know if you wanted to keep this under wraps. I don’t know! We didn’t know what to think,” Snowy added.

“Anyone can come by, whenever they want,” Jack said.

“If I get to eat treats all day, then maybe I’ll come work here too,” Tater added.

Tater had announced a few weeks ago that the current season would be his last. Snowy was giving it one more, so Jack could understand their curiosity.

“How are you doing it?” Snowy finally asked.

“Baking?” Jack said jokingly, trying to lighten the mood.

“Retirement. How are you doing it?”

Everyone went about their retirement differently. Marty went into announcing as he was now the voice of the Habs; Thirdy finally published that book of poetry he had been threatening to write for years; Guy and his wife retired to Key West. Jack had definitely taken an unexpected route.

“It’s easy as pie,” Jack said, trying to maintain a straight face but failing miserably.

Tater and Snowy crumpled up their napkins and threw them at Jack as they laughed.

“Looks like someone is mister popularity today.”

Jack turned and saw that Eric had returned from the bank. 

“Eric,” Jack said as he got up from the table. “This is Aiden Snow and Alexei Mashkov. Guys, this is my good friend Eric Bittle. He owns the bakery.”

“Tater and Snowy! It’s so nice that some of Jack’s NHL buddies finally made it out here,” Eric said as he shook their hands.

“I hope this one over here is doing his fair share of work,” Snowy said.

“If he doesn’t, I know how to keep him in line,” Eric said as he gave Jack a brilliant smile.

“Come on, these guys are going to think I slack off all the time or something,” Jack said.

“Well, you know better than that,” Eric chirped. “I’d have to dock your pay.”

“Pssh! I’d like to see you try to run this place without me. It’d fall apart!” Jack chirped back.

“It’s cute that you think that, Zimmermann.”

Jack was about to sass Eric in return when he turned to look at Tater and Snowy who had the biggest smiles plastered on their faces.

“Well, I don’t wanna intrude on your reunion.” Eric smiled. “I better get back there. I have to go check on some dough.”

“I took it out of the proofer. You’re good,” Jack said.

“Thanks, Jack. Fellas, nice meeting you.”

Jack watched Eric walk away, and then heard Snowy clear his throat.

“What the fuck was that?” Snowy said with a smirk.

“What the fuck was what?” Jack asked.

“I like him, Zimmboni,” Tater said. “Very much!”

"I can't tell if you're honestly that fucking blind, a masochist, or just in denial, man," Snowy said. 

“I like him very much!” Tater said again as Jack stared at them both.

Snowy held up his hands in front of his chest, in surrender. “Nothing, never mind, man.”

Jack took a big swig of his coffee and didn’t say another word.

**+++**

“So when is your dad coming back?” Eric asked as they were finishing up a cupcake order.

Bob had been gone for three days. Jack's Uncle Wayne and Aunt Janet had taken Bob to their cabin in Nova Scotia. Bob made sure to send Jack a text each morning and one right before he went to bed. He started to use emojis as well and even created a Bitmoji of himself, which Jack found very amusing.

“By the end of next week. Why?”

“I was wondering, do you want to go on a quick road trip with me?"

Jack paused his work. His back was to Eric, so he took a grounding breath. 

“Road trip?” Jack said as he continued frosting his cupcake.

“Uh-huh,” Eric said and piped out a perfect rose on top of his.

Nursey, who was packing up the cupcakes, stopped and looked at Jack. 

_What?_ Jack asked via shrug.

 _Nothing_ , Nursey replied through a head shake.

“Well, you know my friends Ransom and Holster? They’re having their ten-year-anniversary this Saturday. I initially said I couldn’t go because I was nervous leaving Heaven, but I trust Denice to run things while I’m gone and I thought if you weren’t busy, maybe you’d like to come with me?”

A cupcake fell to the floor with a thud.

“Derek Malik Nurse!”

“Sorry, Eric,” he said as he wiped it up.

“What do you say? You and me? We can drive up to Baltimore on Friday morning and be back by Sunday.”

“Uh…”

“Please? I hate showing up to their things alone. Everyone’s all coupled off, and even though we’re not a couple, at least I wouldn’t go solo.”

“Right, yes,” Jack said as he studied the cupcake in his hand a little too long. Nursey tapped him with his foot. “Sure. Sounds fun.”

“Great! Thanks. I was going to ask Rodrigo, but I feel like three dates is too soon to ask someone to go away with you.”

Eric had gone out on a few dates with Rodrigo, who he met on Tinder. Rodrigo was a kindergarten teacher, and seemed, from what Jack could tell like a nice enough guy. 

He made Eric laugh and was polite. When he picked up Eric at the bakery for their second date, the frogs were less impressed.

“So, you’re a kindergarten teacher?” Dex had asked skeptically.

“Yes, over at Providence Elementary.”

“For how long?”

“Five years.”

“Why kindergarten?”

“I like small kids.”

Dex narrowed his eyes.

“You ever been married?” Chowder asked.

Rodrigo laughed. “No, have you?”

“He’s 17; why would he be married?” Nursey said dryly as he folded his arms across his chest.

“Okay, you three, let the man breathe,” Eric said as he began to leave.

“It was nice meeting you,” Jack has said as he waved goodbye.

When they left, the frogs huffed and puffed.

“I don’t like that dude,” Nursey said. “He seems mad fake."

“‘No, have you?’” Dex mimicked as he rolled his eyes.

“What do you think, Mr. Jack?” Chowder asked.

Jack watched them get into Rodrigo’s car, as Rodrigo opened and closed the door for Eric. 

“I think I need to toss out the trash,” he said and walked out back. 

He could hear Nursey call out, “My thoughts exactly!”

So now three dates later, it was Jack who found himself in Eric’s car making the five hour trip to Baltimore.

“Ransom just got promoted in his department over at Johns Hopkins--”

“And Holster runs the consulting firm, right?

“Right. They have two kids: Guillermo and Araceli, both of them were born in Honduras.”

“Four and six?”

“You get an A+ Mr. Zimmermann. But don’t worry, even if you call Holster, Ransom, and Ransom, Holster, they won't mind,” Eric said with a smile.

The two enjoyed a comfortable silence for a few miles. Jack was always nervous and felt pressured to make small talk with people, but he never felt that way with Eric. Eric usually took the lead and filled any too-quiet spots with soft stories and chatter, or would just let Jack be silent, and it was never a big deal.

Jack finally spoke. "Did the frogs hear anything yet?" 

"Gosh, no! And it's driving me bananas. I know some of their classmates already got their school letters."

The frogs were awaiting word if they got into Brown. Nursey had applied to Brown, BU, and NYU; Chowder to Stanford, Brown, and Northwestern. And Dex, meanwhile, was waiting to hear from Samwell and Brown—but all three boys had their hearts set on Brown. 

Dex had confided in Eric, who in turn told in Jack, that while he was hoping he would get into Brown, it would difficult to afford it, even with a scholarship. Dex and his mom had each other, and while the love was plentiful, the money was not.

"I just hope they can all stay together," Eric said as he frowned.

The five-hour drive seemed to fly by as Eric then regaled Jack with Samwell stories and all the shenanigans they had gotten into at the Haus.

Jack knew that Eric had met Ransom and Holster his freshman year. They were both on the Samwell team, and the way Eric mentioned the team, Jack assumed maybe he was the team manager.

“So then, after my first assist, we threw a full-blown loud ass kegster--”

“Hold on,” Jack said. “You mean, you were on the team?”

Eric blushed. “Yeah, I was on the team. I guess I never mentioned it before because of you and hockey. I didn't want you to think—"

“But,” Jack said utterly bewildered, “you don’t have to hide your past from me.”

"I know, it wasn't anything like that," Eric said. "Anyway, I know Ransom and Holster are going to bring it up, so I just wanted to beat them to the punch."

He looked at Jack with a bashful expression. 

"Hi, I’m Eric Bittle. I played forward on my university’s hockey team and was captain my senior year. Nice to meet you.” 

Jack laughed, completely bowled over. “You were captain?”

“The first out captain of an NCAA team,” he said beaming as he merged lanes.

“Wait… that was you?” he asked, still stunned

Jack recalled reading about it during his first season with the Falcs. He remembered being envious of the guy and wishing he had had that amount of courage during college. Of course, by then, he was in a relationship with Camilla, so it seemed like a moot point, but still. 

He had wished so many times that he could have been that brave, that he could have done so many things differently. And years later, there he was, with that man—who was now one of Jack’s closest friends.

They finally pulled up in front of a Victorian-style row house in Baltimore’s Charles Village. A small child watched them from the window. He ran outside and down the porch stairs. 

“Uncle Bitty!”

“Memo!” Eric called out joyfully as he scooped the boy into his arms and pressed a kiss to the top of his head. Jack took out their bags and followed them up the stairs.

“I told you to tell me when they got here, little man,” someone called from inside.

“Bitty!” two men shouted as they ran to wrap Eric up in a hug. 

Jack stood and watched them, smiling. 

“Bitty,” the tall blond asked as he gave Jack a double-take, “why is Jack Zimmermann standing on our porch?” 

The other man quickly turned to look at Jack and yelped, “Dude!”

"Bitty?" Jack said as his mouth quirked into a little smile. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I decided to stick Tango and Ford in here, why not?
> 
> Also, I guess I like recycling names. Welcome back, [Rodrigo](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11921313/chapters/26941062).
> 
> Finally, for my headcanon on Memo and Celi, read [this comment](https://archiveofourown.org/comments/228623515).


	6. Promise?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will they or won't they? A classic trope is thrown in for good measure. Plus, a wordless cameo by Ollie and Wicks!

“I told y’all Jack was coming along,” Eric said matter-of-factly over the lunch Holster had prepared for them. “And yet there you were, standing on the porch catching flies with those mouths.”

Jack smiled and said, “In all fairness, you didn’t tell them which Jack, I guess.”

“Accurate!” Holster called out. “You can’t just say, ‘my friend Jack’ and show up with three-time Stanley Cup champion Jack Zimmermann.”

“Your jollof rice keeps getting better and better, babe,” Ransom said as he served himself another helping.

“It’s still not as good as grandma’s,” Celi added.

“Thanks, kid,” Holster deadpanned as Celi and Memo laughed.

“So all this time, whenever you were like, ‘My friend Jack this,’ and “My friend Jack that,’ what you really should have been saying was, ‘My three-time cup winning friend Jack,’ or ‘My friend, NHL God, Jack Zimmermann,’” Ransom said as he pointed his fork at Eric.

“Papi, don’t point,” Memo added.

“I’m glad one of us has manners,” Holster said.

“What about me? I have manners!” Celi cried out just as Memo asked, “What’s an NHL?” 

“You wound me, child,” Ransom shot back.

Jack smiled as he watched this little family’s verbal ping-pong match, how in sync and happy they were, and fell a little bit in love with them all.

“ANYWAY,” Eric interrupted holding his own, “I said ‘My friend Jack’ because that’s what he is. To me, he’s just Jack.”

“Speaking of names,” Jack said.

“Oh boy, here we go,” Eric sighed.

“Bitty?” Jack said with a smirk.

“Dude! He doesn’t know about Bitty?” Ransom asked wide-eyed.

“No one outside of our Samwell crew does, really,” Eric said.

“Hockey name, right?” Jack asked.

“The noblest of titles, representing trust and brotherhood, and this one didn't know yours?” Holster said, almost offended.

“Picture it: 2013, this earnest little nugget of sunshine comes to the first team meeting wielding a pecan pie--” Ransom began.

“Felonius things,” Eric muttered.

“Rans and I take one look at all five foot, six--”

“And a half,” they all said in unison.

“Inches of him,” Holster continued, “and we thought, ‘Dude, he’s itty bitty.’ And so, a name and a legend were born.”

Eric looked at Jack. “Can you imagine the drama I had to deal with these two back at Samwell?”

“Bitty,” Jack said sweetly. “It suits you.”

“Thanks?” Eric chuckled as he blushed.

Jack laughed, and he noticed Holster study him intently. People were doing that to him all the time now, and it was becoming quite annoying.

“Looks like you could use some more rice, man,” he said with a smile and plopped a big spoonful onto Jack’s plate.

“Thanks,” Jack said with a small laugh.

After lunch, Ransom and Holster gave Jack a tour of the house, while Memo, Celi, and Bitty played outside.

“Hopkins had us set with a McMansion in Canton but that’s not what we wanted,” Ransom said as they walked through the upstairs. 

“Or even who we are,” Holster added.

“We wanted to raise the kids in a neighborhood that had other kids, where they could walk places and see all sorts of people living all around them,” Ransom said. “People are surprised that we live here, in a small house, but that’s what we wanted for our family. This is our home.”

“I think that’s important,” Jack said. 

They stopped outside a window, watched Memo and Celi tackle Eric as they laughed. Their corgi, Meatball, jumped and barked next to them.

By the end of their long day, everyone was ready for bed, and it was at that time that Holster made an announcement. 

“We have a situation,” he said.

It took only a few seconds for Jack to realize what he was talking about, and indeed, there was a situation: one guest room and two (unfortunately) very platonic guests.

“Sorry, man,” Holster continued, “when Bitty said he was bringing someone with him, we assumed it was a romantic someone.”

Jack wanted to die.

“I know,” Ransom said, “the kids can sleep with us, and Bitty can have their room.” 

“Sure, that’ll work,” Bitty said.

“But it’s a tiny bed,” Jack frowned. “And the kids are already sleeping. We can’t wake them up to move them.”

“I can sleep on the couch,” Jack and Bitty both said at the same time.

“I’m not going to let you sleep on the couch,” Bitty countered.

“The guest room is rightfully yours,” Jack added.

“Just share the bed already and call it a night,” Holster said as he yawned loudly. “You’ll live.”

“I’m fine with it, as long as you’re not a blanket hog,” Eric said.

Jack tried to calm the flip in his stomach as he acquiesced. 

**+**

Jack could hear the water running in the bathroom, and he sat on the bed, debating if he should leave his socks on or off. What had he gotten himself into? This was exactly what happened in every damn Hallmark Channel movie his father had made him watch. Jack Zimmermann was a living shared bed trope. _God._

The water shut off, signaling Eric’s impending arrival. Inexplicably, Jack settled with one sock on, and one off.

Eric came in smelling of mint and hand lotion; he wore soft looking flannel pajama pants and a _Bits of Heaven_ t-shirt. 

He offered Jack a tiny smile, then climbed into his side of the bed and turned off the bedside lamp. He settled in, and the two laid there, motionless and silent until Eric cleared his throat.

"You don't snore, do you?" Eric asked.

"No, do you?"

Eric shook his head.

Jack could hear Eric give a quiet sigh. He didn't want him to feel uncomfortable, so Jack tried to lighten the mood.

"Fart?" Jack asked with a smirk.

"Pardon me?" Eric said with a little huff of laughter. "Are you offering me one?"

"No, do you fart... at night?"

"No!" Eric laughed out. "Do you?!"

"No."

The two were silent for a beat, and Jack could practically hear Eric's smile.

"Maybe," Jack said. "But in my defense, we had a lot of jollof rice."

The bed shook as Eric laughed, and Jack smiled. Soon the two were cackling, and Holster shouted, "Keep it down, you two!" which really set the laughter off.

After the snickers subsided, Eric exhaled softly and then rolled over onto his side, away from Jack.

"Night, Jack," he said in a near whisper.

"Night, Bitty."

Jack woke to Eric still fast asleep and curled up in the blankets, facing him. Jack studied Eric’s face; the slope of his nose, the faint smattering of freckles spread across the bridge, the little crow's feet at the corners of his eyes, the bits of grey just starting to grow out at his temples. Jack thought he was quite possibly the most handsome man he’d ever seen.

Just then, Memo shrieked downstairs as Celi laughed, and Eric began to stir awake. Jack quickly rolled over to face the window instead of Eric.

Jack heard Eric groan as he gave himself a full body stretch. He then sighed and said, “You awake, mister?”

Jack paused for a moment and said, “Barely.”

As Eric sat up, he stretched his arms over his head and grunted once. “Crack them bones!" he said after one more stretch. "Sheesh, I went out like a light.”

Jack rolled over and sat up. Eric’s hair was all askew, pillow wrinkles pressed onto his face, cheeks pinked, and Jack felt his heart clench, letting himself imagine what it would be like to wake up to this every day.

“Me too,” he said.

“Wow.” Eric smiled. “Your hair is crazy.”

Jack pushed his fingers through it. “I bet. Although you should talk.”

He reached over and tucked a piece of Eric’s hair back into place. He could hear Eric’s breath hitch, and for a split second, Jack felt brave. He thought about saying something to Eric, anything—and then there was a knock on the door. Celi and Memo came in, as Meatball followed close behind.

“We have coffee!” she said. She carefully placed the cup on Eric’s nightstand, and Memo wobbled over to Jack’s side, coffee splashing to and fro as he did.

“And one yucky coffee for you,” he said.

“Great! Just how I like it. Yucky,” Jack smiled as Memo laughed.

“This smells delicious. Thank you, sugar,” Eric said to Celi. “And with vanilla creamer!”

Celi beamed.

“Papi said breakfast is ready in 20 minutes. Daddy said, don’t be late,” she said and waved as she left the room.

“Come on, Meatball,” Memo called as he ran after his sister.

The two remained in bed and quietly sipped their coffee, and Jack felt content even as he sat there, wondering what to say that could possibly convey his feelings.

“I wasn’t kidding about being late!” Holster hollered from downstairs.

“Lord, some things never change,” Eric laughed as he got out of bed and went to the bathroom. He winked at Jack and shuffled off.

Jack silently pondered what the hell was he supposed to do.

**+++**

“Back in college, when I was making up my mind, deciding what I wanted to do with my life, there was one person who supported me no matter what. I knew Adam as my best friend, and I considered him one of the most important people in my world,” Ransom said as he toasted his husband.

The Charleston’s private room was filled with Ransom and Holster’s friends and families. The two sat at a table up front flanked by their children.

“We were Ransom and Holster. Holster and Ransom. Doing everything together and even when I cried and was scared, he was there crying along with me.” 

All the guests at the anniversary dinner party held up their glasses, and Holster looked at Ransom as though he had hung the moon and lassoed it down for him. Jack glanced at Bitty, who had his hand on his cheek as his eyes shone brightly with tears.

“I always knew I loved Adam, he was my best friend and all, but one day I realized my feelings had changed. I was in love with Adam, and that day was at once the best and most terrifying day of my life.”

Jack stopped breathing and gripped his napkin under the table. He felt his heart begin to thunder in his chest, and all he wanted to do was shout, _WELL, WHAT DID YOU DO?_

“I was so afraid of losing him, but I took a chance—and I am thankful that I did because it turned out, he felt the same way. Now, we’ve been married ten years, have two freaking awesome kids, and guess what? He’s still my best friend.”

Holster positively beamed as he pushed his glasses up his nose and gazed at Ransom.

“Thanks for asking me to marry you, man,” Ransom laughed.

“Hell, thanks for saying yes,” he volleyed back.

“Cheers to Adam and Justin!” Holster’s dad called out.

“Mazel tov!”

“Aren’t they just the cutest?” Eric said. 

“Yeah,” Jack smiled as he watched Eric admiring his friends. “The cutest.”

After dinner, Eric and Jack drove Ransom’s parents back to their hotel, and on the way back, Eric got a text from Ransom and Holster. He read it and let out an excited whoop.

“The kids are staying with Holster’s parents tonight at their hotel—I guess it has a pool? Anyhoo, you wanna go get a drink? Ollie and Wicky are going, too.”

“Sure, I’m not tired yet. Are you?”

“Let’s go!” Eric said with a smile as he punched in the address of the bar into his phone’s map app.

A few minutes later, they pulled up at Butts and Betty’s Tavern, where the rest of the group was already situated inside.

Eric led Jack by the hand as they walked through the crowd and found Ransom hanging on Holster, laughing at something Ollie had just said.

“Hey, you came!” Ransom said. “We weren’t sure if you were too tired to go out.”

“Too tired,” Eric said. “What am I? Forty?”

“Yes!” Holster cried out. 

“Damn it!” Eric laughed as Jack clapped him on the shoulder. 

“That’s okay. You still look good,” Jack smiled.

“Aw, you’re the best,” Eric said sweetly and then threw back the shot of bourbon Holster had just placed in front of him.

Jack took a sip of his shot and was then surrounded by Ollie and Wicks (he’s 98% sure those are their names though he's still not sure which is which) who began to talk hockey with him. 

About an hour later, Jack was still feeling pretty damn good. Ransom and Holster were playing a cutthroat game of pool, Ollie and Wicks were giving Jack more, frankly hilarious, Bitty stories, and Bitty had now begun to dance at the jukebox while he sipped on his second vodka tonic.

Jack walked over and gave him a dollar.

“Need more money for tunes?” he asked.

“Nah, I just need to pick a tune—too many tunes. Tooooo many,” Eric slurred slightly.

Jack smiled. “You okay? You need some water, bud?”

“Got this,” he said as he held up his drink. “I’m fine.”

Eric began to swing his hips back and forth and entered one more song in the jukebox.

“So, did you mean it?” Eric asked as he chewed on his straw.

“Mean what?”

“Do I look good?” Eric asked.

“Euh, yes?" 

Eric smiled. 

“Keep being a smoothie, Mr. Zimmermann,” Eric said as he took a sip of his drink, “and see where that gets you.”

He then gave Jack what could only be described as a smoldering look as he began to dance, and Jack felt his knees grow weak as his eyebrows flew up. What was going on?

“Oh boy,” Ransom said when he approached Jack. “It looks like Bitty is having a moment.”

“A moment?”

Holster joined them, still holding his pool cue.

“The right amount of booze, the perfect song, the barometric pressure is just so and then, bam!” he said as he slapped his cue against his palm. “Bitty has A Moment.”

Eric smiled at him again and Jack frowned. It wasn’t so much that Eric was flirting with him because he wanted to as it was the booze and music doing its thing. Eric looked at Jack, then knitted his brow with a blush.

“Ollie, come dance with me!” Eric called out as he turned away from him.

Ollie and Wicks joined him, and Jack sat on a barstool, suddenly ready to go back home. An hour later, everyone had called it a night. 

“I am getting way too many kegster flashbacks,” Ransom said as Holster helped him up the porch stairs.

“Hard same,” Eric replied as Jack led him to the door.

Holster shot Jack a look. “I like this better when I'm the one about to be tucked in, man.”

Jack smiled.

Once they got inside, Ransom began to dance, and Holster chuckled. 

“Okay, I have to get this one to bed. Have a good night, you two.”

“Good night,” Jack said.

"Night, Ransy! Night, Holtzy!" Bitty waved and held onto Jack’s forearm.

“Come on, bud.”

Jack took Eric to the guest room and sat him on the bed as he took his shoes off. He then pulled back the blankets, and Eric snuggled in as Jack tucked him into bed. 

“I’m sorry,” Eric said.

“What for, bud?”

“I'm sorry for acting like a fool,” he whispered loudly. “I know I’m going to be embarrassed forever and day, so just forget anything I did tonight. I didn't mean anything by it? Okay?”

“All right.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

“Night, Jack.”

“Good night, Eric.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to eat all the food at [The Charleston](https://www.instagram.com/charlestonrestaurant/).
> 
> [Butts and Betty's](https://baltimore.thedrinknation.com/bars/profile/1462-Butts-and-Bettys)\---let's go!
> 
> Bits is known for having [a moment](http://checkpleasecomic.com/extras-blog/009).


	7. Bits of Heaven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack sorts through some things (again) and the men in his life offer sage advice...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! We're almost there, folks! <3333

Eric pulled up in front of Jack’s place after what had felt like the longest five hours of Jack’s life. While Eric was cordial and chatty, there was something… missing. And whatever that piece of something that was now gone was, it made Jack’s heart feel cavernous and empty. Alone.

“What are you doing with the rest of your Sunday?” Eric asked as he sounded almost too bright to Jack’s ears.

“I have to pick up Papa at the airport later.”

“Gosh, Jack! I wish you would have told me; I wouldn’t have dilly-dallied so much. We’re almost home, and then I’ll be out of your hair.”

“You’re not in my hair, Eric,” Jack said helplessly.

Eric sighed. “Thanks for coming with me, and I hope I didn’t impose too much on your time.”

“No, never,” Jack said as he willed his feelings to hop into Eric’s head magically. It didn’t work.

“Have a good rest of the day,” Eric has said as he offered Jack a weak smile. “See you Tuesday, Jack.” 

Jack got out of the car and stood there, wishing he knew what to say. Instead, he closed the car door and waved goodbye as Eric quickly peeled away.

**+++**

“So then we drove back from Baltimore, practically in silence the entire way… and now you’re all caught up.”

“Fuck a royal duck, Bobson,” Shitty said. “How are you even alive living through your own goddamn gothic novel? Wait! _Southern_ gothic novel.”

Jack sighed and felt as though an anvil had been lifted from his chest as he looked at Shitty on his computer screen giving him the very same look papa often gave him.

“I don’t know?”

“I’ll say.” 

Lardo sat next to Shitty and loudly _hmm’d_. The two had been sharing a glass of wine as Jack filled them in on his love woes.

“But you said he gave you a look at the bar,” she said and passed the glass to Shitty, who in turn refilled it.

“Yes?”

“You’re not sure?” she asked.

Jack shrugged.

“Okay, Shruggy McFucking Shrugster, show us the look,” Shitty said.

“Shits, I’m not gonna show you the look.”

“Then how the fuck can we interpret it?”

“Show us the look! Show us the look!” Lardo said as he pumped her fist in the air repeatedly.

Jack closed his eyes and remembered Bitty’s face at that exact moment. The glance through lowered lashes, the quick flicking of his tongue—pink and wet—as it licked his bottom lip. The smile that finished it all like a question mark at the end of a sentence, waiting to be responded to.

Jack swallowed dryly and showed Lardo and Shitty The Look, then covered his face as it grew hot.

“Holy shit, dude,” Lardo laughed. “I think you just knocked me up.”

Shitty gingerly fist bumped Lardo.

“Ma!” a small voice called out from another room, “Lihn is saying that you said she didn’t have to put the toys away.” 

“Well Sang threw his LEGOs in the book basket again!” another voice added.

“If you two heathens wake up the baby, so help me!” Shitty called. “I’m gonna ship you off to live with your grandparents in Newton! And it won’t be fun!”

Lardo and Shitty looked at each other and did a quick rock, paper, scissors battle.

“Damn,” she said when his scissors beat her paper. “Duty calls. Be right back.”

Jack smiled and made a mental note to go out and visit them soon. He missed seeing their chaotic happy little family.

Once Lardo was gone, Shitty’s expression grew more serious than Jack had seen in a long time.

“He sounds fucking great, brah. From everything you’ve told me, he sounds perfect." 

“He is,” Jack said simply. 

“And perfect for you.”

Jack nodded awkwardly, not knowing quite what to say. 

“Jack, I say this with love...”

“Yeah?”

“Shit or get off the potty.”

“Excuse me?”

“Shit or get off the fucking potty.”

Shitty took a sip of his wine and put it down; he looked at Jack and smiled warmly.

"Jack, for as long as I've known you, you've always told yourself to be better, to go further, work harder. You’ve always worked harder than god. Brah, why can’t you do that with your love life?"

Jack huffed out a laugh—bitter and tight. “It’s not that easy, Shits.”

“It isn’t? Actually, you know what? You’re right. I take that back; it isn’t easy. Love is hard fucking work, brah. It’s not cut out for the faint of heart. It takes guts and courage, and it’s exhausting, and sometimes you might even ask yourself, ‘Why am I doing all this?’”

Jack watched as Shitty got a dreamy look in his eyes and stared off toward the commotion coming from the other room.

“But then you see the love of your damn life laughing right beside you. You two speak your own language, you create a fucking special little world, and you feel… complete. And you know what, Jack? It’s all worth it. It’s worth the work. Love is worth being your best you, going the distance.”

Jack was about to respond, although he still had no idea what to say when Lardo returned and plopped herself on the couch.

“Okay, fires have been extinguished, and the baby is still zonked out. Must have been the whiskey I put in his bottle,” she said as she winked at Jack.

Shitty looked at Lardo adoringly.

“What? What is it?” she asked with a grimace.

“I just… I just really love you, Lards.”

“Oh god! Gross,” she said with a smile and leaned in to kiss him on the cheek.

Jack smiled as Shitty threw his head back and laughed.

**+**

Later that evening, Jack stood at the baggage claim area in T. F. Green holding a sign which read _Bob Zimmermann, Hockey God_.

“I had a feeling I was going to be picked up in style,” Bob said as he emerged and spotted Jack right away. He read the sign and tossed out a hearty laugh.

“Welcome back, papa,” Jack said as he gave Bob a giant hug. “You look good!”

“I feel good. Here,” he said and gave Jack a waxed paper bag. “Contraband.”

Jack smiled and popped a Timbit into his mouth.

“Come on, let’s go get your bag. Want some coffee?”

“Yeah, sure.”

On the way home, Jack filled his father in on the goings-on of the past week.

“So, I went away with Eric to visit some friends of his.”

“Oh?” Bob said as he turned to face Jack with an enormous grin. “And?”

“And, nothing. We stayed with his friends who live in Baltimore. They were celebrating their tenth wedding anniversary, and Eric invited me to go.”

“As his date?”

“No, as his friend. He didn’t want to show up alone.”

“Did you have fun?” Bob asked and took a sip of his latte.

“Yeah, his friends are nice. They have two kids, and they all knew each other back in college. Did you know that Eric played hockey? Was even captain of the team his senior year?”

“Yes,” Bob said matter-of-factly.

“Yes?” Jack gave Bob a double-take. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“95 is going to be a nightmare right now, we should have taken the streets,” Bob said as he looked at the traffic forming ahead.

“Papa?”

“Huh? Oh! Well, I figured if he didn’t mention it to you, he must have had his reasons. Maybe he didn’t want you to think he was just interested in Hockey Jack. Maybe he likes Baker Jack, just fine.”

Jack frowned not sure what to make of any of it. Jack wanted Eric to know everything about him; there wasn’t one part of himself that he wanted to hide. Of course, it was getting more complicated by the minute the further into his feelings he plunged.

Jack wondered if he should tell Eric about his feelings for him, or should he keep things as they were, satisfied with their friendship? What if Eric didn’t feel the same way? Jack couldn’t bear to lose him; he couldn’t risk that. Could friendship be enough?

“You’re thinking so hard, I can smell your hair burning,” Bob said. “It smells like cherry pie and old hockey pucks.”

“I don’t know, papa,” Jack said. He gripped the steering wheel tightly and beeped at the car ahead of him who hadn't moved when the traffic progressed. “Come on!”

“Well, as long as you’re not stressed about it,” Bob said with an eyebrow raised. He popped a Timbit in his mouth and began to hum to himself.

“How was your trip?” 

“We fished, we ate, we played some shinny—which for a group of old men is quite the feat, let me tell you. And mostly, we talked.”

“That sounds nice.”

“We talked a lot about your mother, just shared memories of her. All three of us did,” Bob said softly.

Jack patted his father on the knee and gave it a quick squeeze.

“You don’t know what it’s like, Jack.”

Jack shook his head. “What what's like?”

“To love someone and be a part of each other’s lives—it’s such a gift. Do you know how rare it is to find someone you like, and then by some great miracle they like you? And you find them beautiful and smart, and they find you charming and funny, warts and all. You plan your future, all the little what-ifs, and maybes. You relish in the minutiae, and it works. It really works.”

Bob smiled wistfully.

“The life you and this person create, it may not be of much significance to anyone else, but to you, well, it’s just a bit of heaven.”

Jack glanced at his papa who smiled warmly. Bob’s eyes shone softly as he continued.

“And I know that she’s gone, Jack. I’ll never see her here on this earth ever again. But you know what’s not gone?”

“No.”

“My love for her; my memories. And no one will ever be able to take those things away from me.”

Bob sighed.

“For the first time in a long time, I feel okay, son. You know? I feel like I might finally be able to breathe again, to feel my own heart again.”

“Is it… is it worth it all?”

“What?” Bob asked.

“Love?”

“God yes.”

Jack looked at his father and smiled, the tears beginning to dot his lashes.

“Hey, do you want to stop at Three Sisters?” Bob asked as he wiped his eyes.

“You want ice cream, right now?” Jack laughed with a sniff, holding his tears back.

“It’s always a good time for ice cream, son.”

Jack smiled and flicked on his turn signal.

“Yeah, I could go for some ice cream.”

“Jack?”

“Yeah?”

“Now, I liked Camilla, you know I did, but you two were never _connected_. You know? Now you and Eric…” Bob whistled once and then drank his coffee. “A very wise man once said to me, you miss 100% of the shots you don’t take. You have to find your bits of heaven where you can, Jack.”

Jack smiled.

«Thanks, papa».

**+++**

On Tuesday, Jack arrived for his shift a few minutes early. It was his first time back at Bits of Heaven since Eric had dropped him off at home after Baltimore. He wanted to make right whatever tension was going on between the two—in whatever way he could, whether that meant a happy ending or a life of doom for Jack.

Eric was at the register with Mrs. Lowenstein, who loved coming in and chatting with him about the various loaves of bread she was making.

“Marble rye was my Ernie’s favorite. So I made it all the time, even though I never cared for it,” she said as Eric nodded.

Jack gave Eric a quick wave, and Eric smiled in return then resumed his conversation with Mrs. Lowenstein.

Jack went to the back room and walked right into what seemed to be a giant argument between Dex and Nursey.

“But there are always different scholarships! And--and, work studies!” Nursey said.

“It’s not enough, and it doesn’t matter anyway,” Dex yelled.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! What’s going on?” Jack asked.

“We all got into Brown,” Nursey said.

“What?”

“Brown. We got our letters on Saturday, Dex, Chowder and me. We’re in.”

“Hey, man! That’s great!” Jack said.

Dex shook his head. “I’m not going.”

“Why?” Jack asked.

Dex looked at the ground and didn’t say a word. 

“He can’t afford it,” Nursey said softly.

“I-I didn’t get as much money as I hoped I would, and my mom and I can’t afford it, even if I got another job… It’s too much, too much for her...”

“But you could--”

“Nurse, just knock it off. Stop trying to be a damn Pollyanna. I’m not going! Okay?” Dex took off his apron and flung it on the counter as he left.

“Fine, but you don’t have to be such a dick about it!” Nursey countered just as Chowder walked in.

“Um…” Chowder said as he looked at Jack.

Jack sighed and watched as Nursey pulled on his coat and beanie, and exited through the back for his break.

“Euh…” Jack began.

“Tell me about it,” Chowder said with a tired sigh. “Mr. Jack, can I ask you something?”

Jack nodded.

“What do you do when you realize two people are perfect for each other, but they don’t see it?”

Jack put on his apron and paused. “Are we speaking metaphorically here, Chowder?”

Chowder hemmed and hawed. “Maybe? Maybe not?”

“Are you talking about two people you know?” Jack asked cautiously, wondering if perhaps his feelings for Bitty were transparent after all.

“It’s so hard to work with this constant sexual tension around me all the time!” Chowder whined. “Chirping, flirting, chirping, flirting! It’s never-ending. Just kiss already!”

Jack stared at Chowder, eyes wide. “Uh…”

“I think I’m just going to butt in and tell Nursey I think Dex likes him, and Dex I think Nursey likes him and see what happens.” He waved his fist steadfastly. “Let the chips fall where they may!”

Jack let go of a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

“Chowder, sometimes it’s best just to let people figure stuff out on their own.”

“But they’re crazy about each other, and what if they never see it? I can’t have my two best friends fighting all the time.” He scrubbed his face. “It’s exhausting,” he mumbled. “Just flipping let yourself be happy already!”

Chowder stomped off to the bathroom, and Jack walked back out to the front of the shop.

Eric was wiping down a table, he turned to look at Jack and offered him a smile so soft and sweet, Jack thought his heart might burst.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember I said I like to recycle names? [Sang and Lihn](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12667635/chapters/28874712) make a cameo here, popping in from an alternate universe!
> 
> I don't know. Where do Shitty and Lardo live? New York? Boston?


	8. Where He Needed to Be

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack decides to get off the potty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just one more chapter left, folks! Run, Jack, run!

“Hey, mister,” Eric said as he plopped the dirty rag in a bucket and walked past Jack to the slop sink in the back.

Jack followed him. “Hey, Bit-uh, Eric.”

“How’s your dad? Is he going to come in today?”

“Probably. I’m sure he’s itching for your rugelach.”

Eric smiled. “Well, you know I make that just for him. Everyone else can reap the rewards, but it’s just for my Robert.”

Jack grinned. “You spoil him too much.”

“He’s not fruit, Jack. He can’t be spoiled.”

Jack smiled and felt he should say something, and maybe Chowder was right. Just do it already.

“Say, Bitty--”

Eric smiled as his brow wrinkled. “Bitty, huh?”

“Oh,” Jack could feel his ears burn as he caught himself. “Yeah, sorry.”

“No, it’s okay,” Eric replied. “It’s just new… that’s all.”

“Eric, I wanted to talk to you--”

Eric walked closer and suddenly occupied Jack’s space. Jack could feel his warmth radiating from him, and Jack wanted to be swallowed whole by it.

“Me, too,” Eric said. 

“About this weekend…”

“Yeah?” he asked with hushed breath.

“I wanted to say--” Jack began.

“Eric!” Nursey called out from the front of the house.

Jack and Eric locked eyes.

“Jack, I--”

“Eric!” Nursey shouted again. “Rodrigo is here!”

Eric and Jack turned toward the door, and Eric opened and closed his mouth a few times—as if he wasn’t sure what he was going to say.

“I… uh, better go out there,” he said softly.

Jack nodded and watched him walk out. 

“ _Merde_!” Jack said as he scrubbed his face. “ _Merde, merde, merde_!”

He huffed out a breath and stared at the ceiling until he heard someone clear their throat. Jack turned to find Dex standing there, looking somewhat uncomfortable.

“Sorry! I was in the bathroom, and then I didn’t want to come out because it sounded like, I dunno, I thought I might be interrupting and, shit, sorry!”

“No, man. It’s okay, Dex. Really.”

“So what are you _merde_ -ing all about, can I ask?”

“Nothing, really.”

“Dude, it didn’t look like nothing. It looked like I walked into an episode of that soap opera my mom watches; all tension and pining and junk.”

Jack raised an eyebrow and let his guard down. He figured if anyone understood what he was going through, it would be Dex. 

“Maybe.”

Dex’s grin was so full, Jack thought he was going to hurt himself.

“Maybe? Wait until I tell Nursey.”

“About Nursey, seems like you have some soap opera stuff going on yourself, there, eh?”

Dex’s smile disappeared in an instant. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Okay, fair enough,” Jack smiled. 

Jack remembered himself at that age—a lot like Dex, all piss and vinegar, but a particular vulnerability and insecurity underneath it all. Dex was a good kid. 

“Listen, Dex. While we’re both here, there’s something I wanted to talk to you about.”

“What’s up?”

“About Brown…”

Dex frowned. “Enough with Brown, already. You're starting to sound like Derek. I crunched the numbers. I think I can make it work at Samwell if I get a job on campus--”

“I want you to go to Brown.” 

“Yeah, me and you both but--”

Jack interrupted. “Dex, listen to me. I want you to go to Brown. I’m giving you the money so you can go to Brown.”

Dex’s mouth fell open. 

“What?” he whispered.

Jack saw what a hard worker Dex was, how much he loved his mother and his friends, all the while maintaining the grades to be able to get into Brown. For Jack, it was a no-brainer.

“I’m giving you the money for Brown. I want you to go, get on that hockey team, kick all sorts of ass, be with your friends, and make a lot of good memories.”

“Are you teasing me?” Dex asked quietly with a softness Jack had never really seen in him before.

“Dex, no. I mean it. I want to pay for all four years of your time at Brown.”

“What’s the catch?” Dex asked, hand on hip.

Jack laughed. “ _Crisse_! The catch is you work your ass off and make the world a better place. How’s that sound?”

“Are you shitting me?"

“Not at all."

“Really?”

“Yes, really.”

“Really?!” Nursey asked as he and Chowder poked their heads into the kitchen doorway, faces beaming. 

Dex began jumping up and down and threw his arms around Jack. Jack laughed and peeled himself away from the monkey pile that had formed, and happily watched the frogs flail together.

“I can’t believe it. My mom is gonna cry,” Dex said breathlessly. “Thank you so much, Jack. God, really!”

What was the point of having all of that money if Jack couldn’t make others happy; if he couldn’t help people out?

“It’s my pleasure,” Jack said sincerely.

“I guess you’re not rid of us yet,” Nursey said as he poked Dex in the stomach.

Dex smiled warmly and took Nursey’s hand carefully in his. “Yeah, I guess not.”

The two smiled shyly at one another as Chowder turned toward Jack with a look that could only be described as utter glee. Jack smiled and left the kitchen to give them some privacy, pulling Chowder along with him.

“Hey, Jack,” Rodrigo said as he waved from a table near the windows.

Jack’s stomach dropped as he remembered that Rodrigo was there. Rodrigo, right. Eric’s boyfriend or whatever… Jack sighed internally as he felt himself deflate.

“Hey, man. Good to see you,” Jack said, trying to force some cheer into his voice.

Eric looked at Rodrigo, then at Jack, then back at Rodrigo who spoke.

“So, seven o’clock? Think you’ll be done by then? I made reservations for seven-thirty at Gracie’s.”

“Am I terrible that I forgot? I’m sorry! I didn’t bring a change of clothes with me,” Eric said sheepishly as he turned to glance at Jack.

“No, it’s fine,” Rodrigo said. “Can you leave a little bit early and go change?”

“Well I don’t want to leave Jack alone to close—it would be twice the amount of work for him.”

“Sorry, don’t mean to eavesdrop,” Jack said.

He did.

“No, it’s okay.”

It wasn’t.

“I don’t mind closing up alone. Leave early and go get ready for your date,” Jack said with a weak smile. “Have fun.”

“See? It’s fine. Thanks, Jack,” Rodrigo said. He then leaned in and whispered, “And maybe bring a change of clothes… for tomorrow?”

God, Jack wished he hadn’t heard that.

Eric blushed and glanced at Jack again. 

“Maybe,” Eric said.

Rodrigo smiled. 

“All right, well, I’ll see you in a bit. Stop at your place at 7:00?”

Eric nodded and then Rodrigo leaned in to kiss him on the cheek.

“Thanks, Jack,” he said with a wave as he headed toward the door.

Chowder discretely nudged Jack’s foot with his own, bringing Jack out of his momentary stupor.

“Euh, yeah. Yeah, yeah, later. You’re welcome.”

The bakery door closed, and Jack turned his attention to the customer patiently waiting to place their order. They looked at Eric, then at Jack.

“An apple tartlet and small coffee, room for cream,” they said then patted Jack on the hand.

Just then, Bob walked in and nodded at Jack. His smile morphed into a frown, and Jack immediately recognized the look of concern on Bob’s face. Jack hated making his papa feel that way. He thought he was way too old to be an emotional burden on his father still. 

“Robert,” Eric said with his usual greeting.

“Eric,” Bob nodded as he approached. “Here, I got you something from my trip.”

He handed Eric a small gift bag.

“Aw, you sweetheart. You didn’t have to.”

“No, I know but I wanted to. It’s some Cape Breton fudge. I thought maybe you could incorporate it into your baking somehow. And if you liked it, you could order it online,” he paused and added, “or you and Jack could go down there and get some in person.”

Jack just about tripped over himself when he heard that. He handed the customer their coffee and wiped the counter after himself.

“I’ll, uh, keep that in mind,” Eric said. “Wow, this looks beautiful. Can’t wait to experiment with it.”

“Can I have some?” Chowder asked as he immediately sidled up next to Eric.

“It’s not for you, kid,” Bob yelled out with a chuckle.

“Sure, honey. I guess we can just eat this batch,” Eric said with a smile as he offered Chowder a piece. “Jack? Something sweet?” 

Jack blushed, inexplicably, and shook his head. “No, I’m good. Thanks.”

He busied himself with the next customer and avoided making eye contact with Eric.

“Oh, young man?” Bob yelled to Jack from his armchair. “Pardon me. Sir with the blue eyes!”

“I think your dad is calling you,” Chowder said. 

“Yes, I am aware,” Jack replied as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Aren’t you going to go over there?” Chowder asked over another of Bob’s loud ‘yoo-hoo’s.’

“Debatable.”

“Jack, don’t be mean,” Eric finally said. “Go see what he needs. Lord, he's going to scare the customers.”

Jack sighed. 

He knew exactly what his father wanted. His father wanted Jack to make a move, to be proactive with his love life—or, to put it in Shitty-speak, shit or get off the pot.

Jack padded over and scoot down on his haunches.

“What is it?” he whispered.

“Why are you whispering?” Bob asked. “My hearing isn't what it used to be, son. Quit being so damn difficult.”

“Well?” Jack demanded.

“Quit being so damn difficult.”

“You said that already!”

“So then listen and do it! Bit of heaven, Jack,” Bob said as he gripped Jack’s forearm. “Bit of heaven.”

Jack turned to look at Eric who had been watching them. They both blushed and quickly looked away.

**+++**

That night as Jack was closing up shop, he felt like a Grade A jackass. Eric had left early to get ready for his date with Rodrigo.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to stay?” Eric had asked.

“No… I don’t want you to be late for your reservation.”

“Honestly,” Eric said as he fidgeted with the end of his apron, “I had completely forgotten about it, so I guess it just isn’t that important. Gosh, that sounds terrible, doesn’t it?”

Jack took a breath. 

“Do you like him?” he asked, the hesitation dripped from his voice.

Eric shrugged. “He’s nice, but… maybe there’s someone better. Someone who is perfect for me, and I’m just not giving the universe a chance to show me?”

He had meant to say something to Eric, anything, or at least see if there was an inkling of hope that Eric might have felt the same way. What did Jack do instead? He facilitated a date for Eric.

Jack swallowed dryly and said, “Well, maybe you can find out if Rodrigo _is_ that person.”

Eric blinked a few times and nodded. 

“Thanks for closing,” he said curtly and left.

Grade A jackass. And so, Jack found himself in Bits of Heaven, closing alone, mopping the floor, while the love of his life was on a date with someone else. 

Jack remembered one of their first conversations.

 _That’s all any of us want. A little happiness and belonging, right?_ Eric had said.

And with Eric, that’s exactly what Jack had felt. Right away, Eric had understood Jack. He understood Jack in a way very few people throughout his life had. He made Jack laugh and made him feel purposeful and wanted—something he thought he’d never have outside of hockey. With Eric, Jack felt… complete.

Jack pulled out his phone and began to smile, a smile so deep and pure, he felt it in his bones.

 _I might be late coming home_ Jack texted.

 _What are you doing?!_ Bob had immediately texted him back. _SON! YES!_

_I’m going to find my bit of heaven._

Jack smiled as he locked up the bakery door and picked up the pace. Jack ran, for the first time in years. He ran, and while it hurt a bit, he knew exactly where he needed to be and nothing was going to stop him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Of course, he was going to give Dex the money. Jack's a sweetheart and a romantic at heart.


	9. Everything is Perfect

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack confronts Eric to tell him how he feels. Will Jack get his happily ever after?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Spoiler... he does.)

Jack stopped running and caught his breath. His knee was throbbing, but he didn’t care; he had to find Eric. He put his hands on his thighs and bent over gulping in air as his cheeks puffed out with quick breaths.

He looked at his reflection in the restaurant windows. Good god, was that what he looked like? Jack smoothed down his hair and stood up straight as he pulled the door open.

What was he doing? What was he doing? What was he doing? It was too late now as Jack found himself in front of the seating host.

“Can I help you?” he asked as he gave Jack a quick once over.

“I’m meeting someone here?”

“You’re not sure?”

“No, euh, sorry. A friend is here having dinner, and I need to give him a message.”

“Oh, do you want to take a quick peek?”

Jack glanced over the host’s shoulder and into the restaurant.

“If you wouldn’t mind?”

The host nodded and turned his attention to the people waiting.

Jack walked in and scanned the room. His heart was rabbiting in his chest because it damn well knew Jack had no idea what he was going to say. It’s not as though he could say _Bitty, I’m in love with you! What's tomorrow's special?_ Or could it be that easy?

Several couples were there on what appeared to be dates but there was no sign of Eric or Rodrigo. He looked again, and nothing. Did he have the wrong restaurant?

“Thank you,” Jack said to the host as he hurriedly exited.

_beep-boop_

Jack rapidly pulled his phone out of his pocket and almost sent it flying.

_Where are you? Eric just left! He was here looking for you. I swear, you two are going to give me a heart attack._

Jack’s eyes practically bugged out of his head when he read his father’s message.

 _What did you tell him?_ Jack typed out.

_What could I tell him without ruining your half-baked romantic plan?_

_Crisse!_

_I’m a love accomplice, here!_

Jack wondered where Eric would go next? So Jack started running to the only logical place he could think of. 

When he finally made it to Eric’s place, he sat on the stoop and exhaled. Before he even rang the bell, Jack needed to think about what he was going to say. 

“Jack?”

Jack looked up, and Eric stood there, windblown and beautiful. His brow wrinkled as he watched Jack.

"Bits… I..."

“What are you doing here? I was looking for you." Eric offered Jack his hand and pulled him up.

“I've been looking for you! I went to Gracie's, and you weren't there."

Eric paused. "You went to Gracie's? Why?"

Jack squeezed Eric’s hand, still holding onto Jack’s. "Can I come in?"

Eric nodded wordlessly, pulled Jack up the stairs and inside. In all the time Eric and Jack had known each other, this was the first time Jack had been at his place. 

Eric turned on the living room light and took off his coat and hat. He draped it over the armchair in the corner and then took Jack’s.

“Do you want some tea?” Eric asked softly.

Jack nodded.

“Wait… no. I don’t want any tea.”

“What do you want, Jack?” Eric asked, almost a whisper.

"I had to find you… because I had to tell you, I have to tell you…"

"Tell me what?"

"Bitty, when we first met, I was sad and lost. You know this."

Jack stood closer and reached out for Eric's hand.

"And one day, I was out for a walk and saw you setting up shop, dancing and smiling. And I knew I wanted to have the sort of happiness I saw in you."

Eric looked at Jack, eyes wide.

"And then we met, and I began to feel that. I didn't feel lost; I felt like I had a purpose and meaning—something I never thought I'd feel without hockey."

Eric smiled as his eyes began to well up with tears. 

"But being with you… it's like hockey. Or I realized you meant a lot to me and you're the kindest, bravest person I've ever met. You're there for the frogs, my dad, everyone who walks into Bits of Heaven knows how amazing you are. Bits, we met, and you promised me a bit of heaven, and that's what you've given me."

Eric's tears rolled down his face.

"And that's all I want to do for you. I love you. I just had to tell you how I feel, and if you don’t feel the same way—that’s okay. I’ll be heartbroken, but I don’t want to lose you, even as a friend." 

Bitty let out a tiny sob, and for a moment, Jack panicked.

“Oh god, please tell me those are happy tears,” he cried.

"You ridiculous man! Don't panic," Bitty said in between sobs. "I love you, too, Jack. So much."

Jack leaned down to press a gentle kiss to Bitty's lips.

**+++**

Jack smiled as Bitty nuzzled his neck. His five o’clock shadow tickled Bitty’s lips, and Bitty gently bit down on Jack’s jawline. Jack huffed out a small laugh; his breath was warm against their damp skin as they lay nude, tangled among Bitty’s sheets. How simple it had been as Bitty undressed Jack and led him onto his bed. How easy for Jack as he allowed himself to get lost in the moment, to feel the desire build in him, to be entirely at ease and not anxious about his aging body—to luxuriate in Bitty’s touch as the two sunk into bed.

Their soft languid kisses soon began to build, and Bitty turned Jack over onto his belly. He scooted down and pressed his lips softly onto the soles of Jack’s feet, working his way up, up, up, slowly and lovingly. By the time he had reached Jack’s shoulder blades, Jack could feel himself practically vibrating out of his skin. Jack turned them both over, as he now loomed over Bitty, taking them both into his hand and feeling that this was quite possibly the best moment of his life.

Several hours later, Bitty climbed into bed, giving Jack a cup of coffee and a slice of cherry pie. The two ate happily, naked, and in silence, just looking at each other, smiles threatening to split their faces, their toes tickling each other.

Bitty hummed a soft sound of approval as he took another forkful of pie.

“Damn, I’m good.”

Jack chuckled. 

“So what were you going to do if you had found us at Gracie’s?” Bitty asked with a mischievous grin on his face.

“Honestly? I didn’t get that far. I knew I had to do something. What if this one dinner was the tipping point for you really falling for Rodrigo? It seemed like the universe was shouting at me to be proactive—well, the universe and Shitty and my father and the frogs…”

“You romantic, you,” Bitty said with a smile. “Well, there was no danger in me falling for Rodrigo when I was already long gone on you... and I told Rodrigo as much.” 

"Oof! How did he take it?"

Bitty shrugged with a sigh. "About as well as expected."

Jack leaned over and kissed Bitty on the cheek.

“Wait until the frogs find out,” he laughed. 

“Derek said something about shipping us, but I had no idea what he meant. I thought he was making a UPS joke or something,” Bitty said with a chirpy grin. 

"Bits, can I ask you something?" Jack asked, tone serious and direct.

Bitty sat up straighter. "Sure, honey. I hope you already know you can ask me anything."

"Are you a power bottom?"

Bitty's eyes grew wide, and then Jack began to cackle.

"You are terrible!" Bitty laughed as he swatted Jack in the arm. “Lord, I still can’t believe that guy asked me that on our first date.”

“I hope our first date is going better than that one.”

“Is this our first date?” Bitty asked with mirth.

“Maybe?”

“Honey, I think our first date was probably months ago at the bakery—only neither one of us was smart enough to know it at the time.”

Jack's expression grew grave. "Bits, love, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I waited so long to get my act together. I should have been braver a lot sooner." 

Jack rested his head on Bitty's shoulder, careful not to spill any coffee.

"Oh, sweetheart, it takes two to tango. I should have said something, too. It's not all on you. Guess we were both afraid of losing what we had."

"And now look at everything we've gained," Jack said, eyes shining.

Bitty gave Jack a deep, lush kiss that Jack felt down to his toes.

"And to answer your question," he said into Jack's mouth, voice deep and gravelly, "yes."

Jack and Bitty laughed, and Jack marveled at what had unfolded in his life. Here he was, in love with his best friend, at ease and happy. This was everything his father ever wanted for him. This is what he finally let himself have, and Jack knew that together, he and Bitty could conquer anything.

 

_Epilogue_

“There! There’s a spot right over there, next to that PT Cruiser,” Bitty pointed.

“Got it,” Jack replied. 

It was a beautiful sunny afternoon as Jack and Eric pulled into the Evergreen Estates parking lot. The grounds were vast and bright, and the beautiful weather only amplified it. Jack walked around and opened the passenger side door for Bitty, who smiled as Jack offered his hand. Bitty leaned in and pressed a fat kiss onto Jack’s mouth—sweet and lush like a flower’s bloom—and Jack still felt Bitty’s kisses down to his toes.

“What’s on the menu today?” Bitty asked as he reached for the container of pie in the trunk of their car.

“Brisket with roasted veggies, kugel, and some other stuff.”

“Sounds delish! And what a trooper, making his birthday meal.”

“You know how much he loves to cook for all of us.”

Bitty plopped his sunglasses onto his face and offered Jack his free hand. Jack intertwined his fingers with Bitty’s as they made their way across the large parking lot.

“There are my guys!” Bob said when he opened the door, and his arms, for Jack and Bitty. 

“Papa! _Bonne fête_!” Jack said as he hugged his father.

“Happy birthday, Dad Bob,” Bitty said. 

Bob let go of Jack then pulled Bitty in tightly.

“Is that for me?” Bob asked as he eyeballed the container in Bitty’s hand.

“You know it!”

“Come on in, I have some mimosas ready out back,” Bob said with an enormous grin as he waved them in.

 

They sat on Bob’s patio, and the late summer sun shone, gauzy and warm, through the leaves. Jack closed his eyes and let the sun warm his face. He slowly opened them again and watched Bitty and Bob animatedly chat together. Jack smiled and looked out toward the golf greens further down a hill.

“You have such a nice view, Papa.” 

“Sometimes my pal, Bruce, will ride his golf cart by here, beep it and wave. He’s a total card,” Bob said with a laugh.

Then, as if on cue, Bruce rode by and beeped his golf cart.

“Bob, you still emceeing the trivia night tomorrow?” Bruce shouted.

“Yes, indeedy!” Bob called back. “You remember my son, Jack! And my son-in-law, Eric!”

Bruce nodded as Jack and Bitty waved.

“Have a good evening,” Bruce yelled out and waved as he drove away.

“Papa, you still want us to pick you up for the game on Tuesday? Brown versus Harvard.”

“Hell, yes! The frogs are counting on me to be there. Can’t let them down.”

Bitty smiled. “Who wants some pie?” he sing-songed.

“Now that’s a silly question,” Bob shot back. 

Bitty smiled again and shook his head as he sliced the pie that sat on a platter on the patio table.

“Okay, just for you,” Bitty said. “You get the first slice, birthday boy.”

“Can I still be called a boy even if I’m 79?”

“Yes," Bitty laughed. "Yes, you can.”

Bitty handed Bob the pie, and Jack looked at his father. 

How far he’d come the past year. He was on the board of directors at Evergreen Estates, enjoyed golfing with his new friends, and had planned on doing the Penguins Fest next month. Jack was so proud of him and felt a small prickle begin at the back of his throat.

“You okay, sweetpea?” Bitty asked with a warm, open smile.

And then there was Bitty, who tumbled into Jack’s life bringing in everything that was good and sweet. What a beautiful surprise; what a wonderful life to be blessed with, even late in the game. Jack finally had his little bit of heaven.

Jack leaned over and pressed a kiss to the top of Bob’s head.

“Yeah,” he replied. “Everything is perfect.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who read, kudo'd, and commented. This was so fun and easy to write—I love them.
> 
> Also, thanks to a most excellent comment by [airplanesandcookies](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18826573/comments/231901492), a little vignette [has been written for the fic](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11105910/chapters/45593578). 
> 
> So Bob is the basically the king of Evergreen Estates. He hosts every party and is popular with everyone there. Bitty and Jack have dinner with him every Sunday (Bitty changed the bakery hours so that he's now closed on Sundays and open Mondays—because family comes first.) He was a HUGE hit at Penguins Fest and the frogs are convinced Bob is their lucky charm.
> 
> Nursey and Derek have been officially dating for almost a year, and now Chowder rolls his eyes because they are one of those annoying couples. Still, he loves his best friends.
> 
> And Jack, well, Jack proposed to Bitty like practically IMMEDIATELY. Their wedding was in Providence and everyone attended—and all of the kids got along famously. (They almost started a fire in the kitchen, but that's a whole other story.)
> 
> And if you drive by Wickenden street, and peek into Bits of Heaven bakery after hours, you can see the two owners dancing while they close up shop.

**Author's Note:**

> It's a WIP, but I have it fully outlined and plotted, and am working on it every day. I made myself weepy with the ending, y'all.
> 
> Your comments and kudos keep me motivated. I love hearing from you! xo
> 
> All OMGCP characters belong to Ngozi Ukazu. <3
> 
> Come and say hi [on Tumblr](http://wrathofthestag.tumblr.com/)


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